Where one who starts well, very often
Not even for his praying can get farther
– Preventing always the role of commander –
But not trailing behind due to his tumbles
As those who really get stuck in the way
From the land didn’t reach the sea
Despite of those worn out sandals.
Because it isn’t easy to live so long
When in the pocket very little remains
To make radiance from the smoke
The right brightness of a joyful fragrance
The act for which from the cloud of dust
The gift of “I am listening” is given away.