We have become confused.

In the wings of darkness they call the violin

Lost birds scattered with time

Do I wonder if I will ever have peace from us

After we gave them the melodies of our lives?

The ghosts of our dreams are memories scattered with oblivion

And you invaded my mind so I came to beg you for safety

Do I wonder if I have a palette of faded colors

Because I was an artist I became condemned?

Come, come to me, here is the meeting place of oblivion

Heal your wounds, there is no need, O birds, for sorrows

Here I pour out my love and tenderness upon you

Touch hands, and be content with the thought of gratitude

But do not leave in us a single inch of this place

Rather, search the dungeons, for they are the devil's harbor

Do not be cowards, even in sorrows

Here we are forced to remain in a state of drunken delirium

We do not know what we said when the basil trees blew upon us, making us scattered and disturbed, without a harbor that would make us forget you, O humans?