Perhaps, I’m hidden.Trying not to show up.Somehow, like Renoir’s painting of the hidden girl.It reflects my shadows.It also reflects the sorrowWithin my heart. My heart is burning And I can see the and senseThe fire. The flames are weakening my body. I’m excluded from this happiness My eyes are witnessing.The song just started.I have the desire to move My feet until the solesOf my shoes destroy. but i am more isolated, Than a lonely owl. If I only could have this chance.A chance to picture myself in her joy.And instead of listening to the song play,Give my best at enjoying the rhythm. The song is in the middle.The dream is vanishing like if imBlowing ashes from my hands. Time goes by quickly, the song just ended.