The eternal road is the narrow road
where you wait for others to pass you.
As soon as the lungs of time
breathe camouflage that irritates truth
the centuries like dry branches fall
one after another
breaking the masks, sphinxes
and artificial hearts of the empires.

The eternal road is the narrow road
where you wait for others to pass you.
The volcano crumbles the hideout of the last stage
and as the past applauds the future
the first century waves roll over and over.

Is the dormant light still white
when the heaven gives birth to another earth
and the dew of the pangs drips all over you?

The eternal road is the narrow road
where you wait for others to pass you.
Why does a trillion-word dream exist
if it cannot be opened?
Calling for the asking knots
in the warm-blooded ropes
I lose my seamless robe
and the claws of rolling nightmares
slowly fade through the ripened dream in me.

The eternal road is the narrow road
where you wait for others to pass you.
On the worn but still young crossroad of the wishes
I leave love.

The resurrection of consciousness is faith.
Through the same faith you still
find yourself in a far future.