... Birds that sing with their own thoughts do not hear ... less and less to me in me and more and more of the world ... I lure the sun, the colors they attack from all sides ... live with them ... and slowly becomes the bird singing, and I already am the hot air ... wspoljestem with the world ... ide and no longer just swim like the wind ... and I have in me all the colors and scents ... and finally forget about you ... I am more and more everything that surrounds me ... is a world ... I am warmth and vast space and the smell of earth and the color and shade I'm ...
