And crying tears of anguish,
The black lungs,
The heart is numbed like a bird away from its nest.
The clean air misses me, the noise of the people around me is agonizing
The city is gradually meddling in this thin body that is mine
Thus obstructing my happy fantasies of an ideal that is extinguished.
You know what I want?
To live in the mountains, surrounded by tall firs
I'll lie on the foam,
Feel the smell of mushrooms, flowers and damp earth.