Earth! Do send your map to my head's mist!
Bind my paths to your remote streets!
I will walk, talk and get some strings to knit.
My knees may hurt so I will probably slip.
I will fall and rise to my feet.
I will talk and talk before my heavenly sleep.
Ah, Earth! Do bind my paths to your remote seas!
I might be unborn for my next trips.
I was just born on this time's lips.
I will beg a plane to give me its wings.
Ah, plane! Let me fly away from my head's mist!
Could a flying seat be the best street?
Earth! I was born to read your saga's scripts.
Neither born nor unborn learns what life is.