"We start the morning with a brain on fire, with a heart full of bitterness and
want to love, and we go, rocking to the rhythm of the waves
our infinite on the finite of the seas. Some are happy to escape a homeland
infamous, others the horror of their birth, others -
astrologers lost in the eyes of a woman - the tyrannical Circe from dangerous scents ... 7 But the real
travelers are only those that start to leave; hearts
light, similar to the balloons, they never separated from their fate, and
without knowing why, they always say "Come on! Their desires have
shapes of clouds. "
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