Across the world I run.
My spirit is wild
And in is wildness cries the pain of love.
Were to?
Were to?
Somewhere; everywhere.
Someone; no one.
Alone, alone.
Where are you?
The wind calls…
The sky sings…
I go along in my spirit horse.
I run along the fields.
Were to, where to?
Lídia de Sousa 10-04-2003