There they come from the mountain
marching the clandestine flowers,
those that were born near the magma
what lit the wick of its roots.

There they come falling from the clouds
the seeds by an arrow bow
And the shoots grow in the cracks
in the corners, in the fish tanks.

Here come the rivers of kicked leaves
wrapping pebbles between their limbs,
that in the embrace they become meteorites
going through polar light.

Let the earth tremble!
Let the buildings tremble!
Let the seas tremble!
Let the mountains tremble!

The roots arrived a long time ago,
crouched behind the misted glass,
watching the stains fade
and we decided to open the window.