In his ransack he packed couple of shirts and a scarf
His vocation as an adventurer, six tips, seven advises and a thousand memories
His desire to stay
His condition to transform
In the warrior who dreamed yet has not become

He said goodbye with a grimace disguised as a smile

(The glissade of the moon through the cornice)

And it's not from here because his name does not appear in the records
Nor is it from there because he left

If the universal permit to exist extends from day we are born
And expires in death

Why they chase you, wolf?

If the consul of the moon
has already gave you permission (to exist)