Raíces

A caress, an illusion.
Look at the moon, it's shining again.

In my memory I can find
everything that I was,
everything that I am.

I follow the steps that I already took
and, even though I go back to the beginning,
I never go backwards.

Connected to the ground I support my feet;
with tenderness and firmness, I nourish myself from it.

I walk in the mud that saw me born,
roots emerge that connect me to it.

The sweet memory of a real dream
won't let me forget what I was.

Neither the storm, nor the temptation,
nor a million promises
are going to make me change.

I walk in the mud...