I know what's hiding behind the rainbow,
I've seen it before, and its shape scratches the light,
Like a desperate shout in an empty room,
Like a blinded song howling to the moon.
I'm just a passenger, a minute tired to be waited for,
A frame squaring a rounded soul,
A list of vows to be broken in one of these shows.
I'm praying not to go to sleep,
Because in winter my soul feels in greed,
And these fingers were molded only to see,
The face on the lake behind the tree.
I'm not alone and yet I can breathe,
Gathering these words among so many seen,
No one is asking, no one feels free,
Crawling behind the rainbow I know it's waiting for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem