Our borders have been drawn
The line unmeasured that opens in front of us as a crevice
The suffering, bitter land
holds us in its grip, even if you fought it, enraged
When the hard fate touches with its freeze
it makes you stronger, unless it blows you from your roots
Lights change in the harness of the tailwind
And the unkown is for you,
with which you are wondering, sorrow ringing on your shoulders
And which makes you escape the helper.