I wish to open a door
That the wind closed a thousand years ago
That I may see what's behind it
And how dreams hide within it
...
If memory serves me well
There, upon the caravans of the departed ones
Above attires of the happy and the barefooted
Atop teardrops of the weary
...
How long would this eternal sea and everlasting dream
In your eyes prevent me from sleep?
How long would the years of separation and longing
Swing me?
...