if I were to listen to my soul
I would die at this very moment as I write,
the  poem to remain unfinished like a sphinx,

if I were to listen to my soul I would die like the bird that shatters the window with its chest,
-dead,
sleeping in violet flowers,

if I were to listen to my soul I would fly to you like a hawk,

but I don't listen to him, I don't listen to him, and I don't die, and I don't smash windows, and I don't fly,

I drink water, I drink water, and
I am hiding in the grass, waiting for the storm to do it all,

but if I would listen to my soul, alas if I would listen to my soul