I too wish I could innocently light a fire,
but in the absence of fireplaces, I do it in my life.
I burn too much,
I try to avoid the passivity of being wood,
I forget that’s okay.
I get angry and flare-up, there is fire
there is chaos, I am exhausted.
I wait for the flame to subside.
How can I not burn you?
First Sun of March, a sidewalk and me.
I would like to have a joint,
I would like to stop to cry but I’ve no time,
I must study.
I would like to know where the thorn is stuck and try to remove it or was that dream fault?
I would like peace and quiet,
but troubles bring me under the Sun,
bring me the Sun.
Or maybe this is one of those days in which I’m little
while mankind is too big
Yesterday I’ve made a mistake,
but the worst is not to have mentioned it yet,
the worst is being lost
Only the witches come to the Burcht to look at the moon.
Only the pure in heart don’t burn in doing so.
The moon is there, palpable
while it draws the boundaries of the cathedral
each one in the Burcht if he entered now would be lighter
no one in the Burcht if he entered now would come out alive.
While the moon stands alone
there is not even a star
English