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One thousand years ago any friar

Dressed in black went on wilderness

Somewhere in Syria or Arabia

Far from that place saw other black friar

This second friar was a Mirage

image of the black friar

Has become to be transmitted

In atmospheric slices

he has left

atmosphere

And now wanders

on all universe

him see now somewhere on Mars

Or on any star of the Southern Cross

Through a thousand of years Mirage

will be again shown to the people

One thousand years already on exod...

You see the monk near to yourself

In its eyes only grief

And memoirs of the last centuries