We miss
The itching, the scratching,
This heavy air of the aula magna
These transtemporal days
Filled with sunlight,
And I know
There are some aspects
Of existence
Hardly understood -
A listlessness instead of a livelihood.
Chorus
I know
Your absence is like snow,
These days are made of flowers -
Icicles and towers.
We stay
On this forgotten road,
So young and so courageous,
Unwilling and untold
We miss
The depth and the contrast,
The shine and the bliss,
We know how hard it is
To tell the future from the past,
We drag along at last.
Chorus
The days of sunlight will be back,
So thoughtful and devoid of rags,
We'll shine upon these spinning wheels,
Courageously we'll shine and heal
