Nowhere

I am sick from poison. I am sick from a thirst,
for which nature has not created a drink.

From the ground burst forth streams and springs.
I bend down and drink from the veins of the Earth
its sacrament.

The air overflows with holy rivers.
I stretch up and feel my lips wet
from white ecstasies.

But no´where, no´where ...

I am sick from poison. I am sick from a thirst,
for which nature has not created a drink.