Travellers sit carefully
On the fake leather benches taking off their coats with the colours
Of blueberry and dry grass
The train stumbles into the night like a blind shepherd
 
Darkness swiftly invades the compartment from all corners feeding itself
On our listlessness
Soon – in half an hour – we will glue our faces to the window panes
Overtaken by some strange belief
That through that anonymous forest
Following our desires and sentiments, roe deer, birds and other creatures awoken
Among the trees will be running along with our train
 
Upon the conductor’s sign, exhausted by this phantom race
Our heads will sink into sleep
 
The soft and black flatlands
Bears bumps budding with electric cities
Of the night.