I’m always sing the Marceillaise in my dream.

It’s likes the free warrior.

It’s pill the blood everywhere.

At the path under the shade of the trees and the wild flowers breathe.

I’m looking at the tourist’s back.

He is walking far away to the future.

The world gives me the loneliness.

However, I give back to it my deep emotion.

Who is the person talking in my dream?

Let the mind flying in the infinite space when I lie down in the bed.

Here, I see the wind and the river was wave.