Sometimes I breathe
Sometimes with ease
Sometimes my breath even gives relief
But sometimes like most times in life
Breathing and believing that it should feel nice
Is nothing but a dream when you've been suffocating on inside

a ruined bed, two lovers lay,
outside, the first slow breath of day,

a song is sung - a bird, up high,
born years ago, somehow survived

the rip and tear of tooth and claw,
hatched from a nest that did not fall,

a slender limb that did not break
on sleeping earth that did not quake

grown old and tall and straight and wide,
a withered seed that never died,

blown from afar on autumn breeze,
stirred from the ground with careless ease,

a little boy raking the ground
looked to the sky, and heard the sound
of birds

Though I have long burnt
             that particular letter
             my eyes still well in tears
             when its contents I remember

I was a bird
پرنده ای بودم
In the sky
From your eyes...
...در آسمانی از چَشمانِ تو
When you didn't see me flying
در آن هنگام
که پروازم را حس نمی کردی

Why are your eyes so beautiful?!
چرا چَشمانِ تو آنقدر زیباست!؟
That I released the lock of hair
To your wide blue sky...
که من موهایم را
...در آسمانِ پهنِ آبیِ تو رها کردم