They rush to reach the weary earth,
Challenging each other who will first kiss,
The scorched ground,
They freely fall from heaven,
Knowing that in the end,
They will shatter,
And die.

But they keep on…

They sing a Celtic song, when I’m weary
And perform the Beethoven march
When I’m on cloud nine
To watch them, when they dance
Is like soaring high above the clouds,
They are immortal
They die
To live again
To laugh.

And they persist…

They shattered
And die
And live again
Without a past

I envy them.