I miss
Every night is very long
You are incarnate as the root of
sausage Touches the tip of my head
Enter into the gray mind
Every morning I wake up short
You are transformed into a bird's chirp
Greet the sweet under the shady tree That cursed at you will
Do not you feel that I miss
See your face or your smile
Because the body and the heart are separated
And I can not destroy the distance of power