You don´t have a body, nor a country, nor a familly, you don´t bow before the tirans; you don´t have a price in the land of the humans, neighter the time affects you.
You are the essense of the years you have, what comes, and what have been. You are the meat of Gods, the smile of the rocks and the purety of the instinct.
You are that nourishment that is tired of bread is hungry of, you are the grace of life everywhere or in art, or in simply truth. You are the red carnation, or the boy in the mirror who after seeing you tries to get prettier.
You are a perfect verse who brings the power of what it says.
You are the way witch has art of the master and the aprendice. It's a miracle, a light, an harmony, a line without trace, you are the beauty...
Well, you are your name.