We'll live on a rope full of knots, We'll fall and rise back lots Until our brains are fulfilled with stars And our skins are marked with bluish nebulas. At the end of our time we'll fall in reverse, Our minds will be lost somewhere in the universe, Our bodies will be carried away on a hearse. Let us claim a late caprice Let us hear our last breath Before we can seek for peace In the silence of the death. Finally we'll let nature Grow flowers on our sepulture And for the eternity become Mother Earth's sculpture.