The one who walks
is tired,
she is about to lose her energy.

She moves between mines
frightened,
whenever is day or night.

A step she takes,
a lost of health,
a step she takes,
another light goes out.

Her life,
it dies
slowly around every corner.

She leaves herself in broken pieces
on sidewalks
and in front of windows.

One girl, a mine,
shivering and swearing
almost without legs
that the lighted city still looks dark.

Her who walks
almost without life
looking for a way out.

Footprints that burn.
So many cousins,
but no help.

A lost one
who found with
-and took for guide today-
the moon.

Come back loved;
come back, dear.
Come back.

If you move,
if you wrap again,
you see it rains and...

Just one last time
let yourself go and you will see
that with you the desire of continuing to live and walk
will be back.