
In this time, the smallest things are dying,
blossoms are freezing
and everything is too small to exist.
But within, the plains of solitude,
the mountains of silence,
waiting for the birds and your eyes.

In this time, the smallest things are dying,
blossoms are freezing
and everything is too small to exist.
But within, the plains of solitude,
the mountains of silence,
waiting for the birds and your eyes.