I stroll along, somewhere, serenely still. I stop., Accompanied by my eyes, with shoes, with rage And a necessary oblivion,  I step, through office Buildings and butcher's shops, and courtyards Decorated with washing hanging from the line: Underpants, towels, shirts that weep salty tears.And then i slowly start to die of the restrictions
Don't travel,
Read a book, in silence,
If you don't listen to the melody of life,
If you don't value freedom
You slowly start to die.

When you kill your immortal soul
And when you don't let others help you.
Then you slowly start to die

If you become a servant of routine
If you always follow the same order
If you don't change your ways
If you don't wear sparkling clothes
Or if you don't talk to anybody for weeks
Then you are slowly starting to die of that roar that lies on the other side of silence

For if you leave behind the heat and passion,
Of jumbled feelings, of life, 
Then all the things that make our eyes shine,
And make our hearts beat faster,

Will be gone.