A paint brush meets a fruitful pen,
after climax female loses some feathers,
His ink dry, male leaves,

A spark springs from life crib,
squeal of joy accompanies my loneliness
and turns into bliss.

I cherish it like a prize,
in this cradle i grant all my dreams,
in this cradle i supply my needs,

In the moment where i feel my limbs weaken,
with all his heart this feverish human being comes and lights torch of hope.