She slept
To the heat of the fathoms
And I woke up
Wanting to sound her
Some time behind
I thought of writing him
That I never drew
The traps of the love
Of that love
Of slight music
Anything liberates us
Anything but it is
I won‘t send him
Ashy of roses
Neither I plan to avoid
A secret close contact
Of that love
of slight music
Anything liberates us
Nothing else is
Nothing else is
Nothing else is
Nothing else is.