Among the wounded and the dead,
Everyone was saved;
Everything I can put my eyes on
is invisible to me.

The pain I actually feel
cannot bother me,
and, often, I feel
only to miss it.

What is there,
that lives beneath anger
that calms me down?

The burning touch
of a sweet song
dries out these eyes
that never saw tears
for suffering is desert;
in the desert I'm lost,
in the desert I remain conscious,
in the desert, alone, I found company,
in the desert, weak, I stayed strong enough to keep living,
in the desert I remained steady to keep on moving.

The dry branches that never came to be
are the flourishing of everything that was possible.
Otherwise I would be someone else.