The sound of the clouds cutting through the mountain,
Are heard only by the falcon,
Its lonely soul a heavy burden,
That makes the melancholic breathless air a holy spectacle,
Its quiet and its sharp,
The lonely Falcon on the mountaintop,
It is phantasmagoric,
How it is no longer there,
The Mountaintop has shifted into a human,
I wonder how she got there,
How can I look down on the clouds?