I got lost in myself, like the wind that dances without reason
And I looked at the sky, as if it were my last thought
but it just looked back, without promises
I tried to understand, but what is understanding?
Will I ever understand?
Perhaps understanding is just another illusion of the mind

And longing, ah, longing became a shadow
that follows me and touches me with its invisible hands
I speak and say, but what do I say if the word escapes
and the emptiness is there, as always, waiting for me?

It's all so fleeting, and at the same time
it's as if it were eternal. I am like the wind
that goes and doesn’t know if it will return
Everything I touch disappears
And what remains? Only the wind
who doesn't care about being
who doesn't need answers