I bow before Time 
   To touch him with my helplessness 
   That gives birth to monsters in the late hours, 
   Reasons for shouts and drunkenness. 

   And Time is passing by.... 

   I curse the Time and his seconds 
   That pass like a sweet delusion, 
   Reaping in his way even the drops of innocence 
   And the moments of virtue and hidden sufferings. 

   And Time is still passing by... 

   I reconcile myself to the moment that grew old from waiting, 
   In my boredom I forget to laugh, 
   Waking up on the same road 
   So empty of feelings and grief. 

   And Time will still pass by... 
 
 

   I try to find my way to the center 
   So then to stick my roots in hell 
   And the seven branches in every sky. 

   And I grow, and I rise... 
   I think so I can see... 

   From now on I don't know the illusory anymore, 
   And the ephemeral, if it ever existed, 
   I will no longer remember. 
   I am the prime Center and the last one 
   And the funerary stone is my home. 
   Because I am what cannot be seen, 
   What cannot be heard, 'cause I only exist 
   In center of world, in the real mode, 
   I exist without effort as it was before 
   And I will be the Center inasmuch as the world breathes.