I run as a wapiti runs in shadowy wood,
Mad with his own wild aroma.
Tonight is a night of mid-May,
A south wind blows.
I start losing my way and I roam,
I look for what I cannot attain,
I attain what I am not looking for.


My most profound wish
Starts rising and dancing in my soul.
This shining vision flits on.
I try to clasp it firmly,
It runs off, and I am again lost.
I look for what I cannot attain,
I attain what I am not looking for.

Ilania Cyaalá

Nov.12,2010