In a wheelchair there was a dreamer,
Without being able to move not a muscle, he moved internally,
He dreamed that he was an unbeatable athlete who ran
Like a racing greyhound haunted by the mind.
From an early age he was in such a state,
Trying to rise like a dead man from the grave
He was dead alive, but more alive than ever,
Having more will than a multitude of muscles.
Without moving he moved, and without walking he walked,
Walking the loneliest roads in the world,
And although he could not speak he conversed in silence
With the most daring geniuses who think deep.
He befriended the geniuses who gave him such ingenuity,
That gave him a wonderful and open mind,
Get up, mysterious voices told him,
You are daydreaming and you can move your legs.
He moved his legs and was able to rise from the grave,
He slowly got up amazed with joy,
He didn't notice any weight floating like a feather
That he moves through the nights and the bright days.
His legs were so strong that a miracle they held,
He didn't walk like anyone, he had so much power,
That he ran when he walked,
Reaching the greatness of him.
Miracle, I can walk now, and speaking without realizing it,
He ran away from the sanitarium without stopping,
Without stopping he lived and won a hundred thousand races,
Being the will that must always be seen first.
Because the will can heal, save, learn
To be stronger,
Because the weakness
He is lover of death.
And any sick person can be cured by wanting it,
Fighting against the evils of negative airs,
The will that undoes the obstacle is enough,
That he doesn't let him live where he would be most alive.
Freedom is being able to get rid of fears,
From intensive locks,
Never faint
Walking the roads.
Like a genius to roam
An infinite journey.