In a circus of stars
are collected the sighs of men
The dark night disrupts the senses and brings the rest
All dream with seven stars and a dying light.
With a flashlight in your mouth a man
Between a groundswell of rip-roaring noises and movements
Searching for a place where you feel an illusion of calm
and absolute tranquility.
But only finds an old road already poach by crowds
And an inner voice that tells you:
¡Walks! And is waiting for the dawn.
A sun pilgrim is numbed and lies on the clouds of the sea
and to call him.
The eagles are looking for rest
and the cats a seat to the firelight
Ancient Chants dating back to the sky
And the silence explains everything.
Who do you listen to?
Isn't it your inner voice?