Nomadas

Nomads seeking the angles of tranquility,
in the mists of the north, in civilized tumults,
among the light and dark and the monotony of passing days.
Traveler seeking peace in the twilight,
you will find it, you will find it at the end of your path.
Under the transit of apparent duality,
the September rain awakens the emptiness of my room
and the laments of loneliness still linger.
Like a stranger, I feel no ties of sentiment,
and I will leave the city, awaiting a new awakening.
Travelers seek hospitality,
in sunny villages, in the depths of immensity,
and then sleep on the pillows of the earth.
Stranger seeking the unfathomable dimension,
you will find it outside the city, at the end of your path.