Jo sé

I know that if I hear the cry
of the bird when it flies,
it's you who cry in some corner,
that, like the wounded bird,
full of blood in the chest,
implores a nest on the dry tree.

But I want to be,
for your sadness,
like the dusty and old wardrobe
that keeps the bad memories
in the darkness
and prevents you from going back there.

But I can't lift you up.
Step by step, your effort
will, just by wanting,
make new branches grow
in this desert of yours.

Open your eyes and look ahead.
You will always find something
that wants your breath,
that says: "Give me faith,
I want to continue the journey".

I know that if in the middle of the sea
I see a seagull
gliding in the thick fog,
it's you who are looking
for shelter, protection,
a place among the rocks.

But I want to be,
for your uncertainty,
the gust of wind that breaks the air
and opens the horizon
for you to resume the flight
that will take you to our beach.

But I can't lift you up...

Open your eyes and look ahead...