Walking some days
the light of the plains shines.
A fresh wind blows over the green wheat
and the greyhounds come running to me,
riding on my bike
A lonely and happy boy.
There are days when time flies back.
My bike does not move forward any more
and the greyhounds look at me in the distance.
They don´t get close to see me coming back.
I am not alone any more
and the mountains hide the light of the plains.