Jo també he dormit a l'alba

I've also slept at dawn
under an olive tree
and thought I was safe.

And I've seen the nights melting
like sad candles, shortcuts beyond.
I've heard the birds' songs
on the branches and in the wind,
between dreams and deceptions.
But I've felt slow again
a broken dawn covered in grief
and I've lived a thousand pushes,
lost forever
the torn dream.

When I sing the songs
words are missing,
but, for every piece of time passed,
we wait for the effort of all actions.