And keep putting down roots…
still being pruned
by the uncertainty of unease…
to be able to dazzle one day new shoots,
full of horizon…

And cry to heaven…
who does not stop of tying us
and to cradle each of our dreams…

And feel comfort…
for that godmother breeze
that clothes how eternal mother
every tear and every stew…
every step and every duel…

And return to the ground…
to shed the earth in our hands…
always sowing with caution
so as not to fall back into despair…

Roots without heir…