Tie a string to my body, so that I can make a plan with your string, you make my wings, let me tie a cocoon around your string from the rug. Every yellow, red and pink knot of mine is a flower on the canvas and a prayer, the bud on my mouth, see that behind every slimy twist of someone whose heart is tied to you, I am looking at you full of the symmetry of my little flowers. I have stoned the house, the house of your plan, be in the river In the arms of my hut and lawn, the knot of minutes, the knot of seconds, the knot of night and day, from this minute to minute, how can I have a heart? If I have gone astray and torn apart, it is yours to heal the wounds of my life and body, my eyes are in your hands. How do you want to put a price on my every knot, shine above the sky to lift me, the old flag of my old country?