The Eagle

When I was a boy, I had the feeling

That I had a bird nesting in my chest

A powerful feeling, a powerful bird

I used to watch myself in the mirror

To challenge the relentless stare of the bird

Observing me, scrutinizing me

In my childhood games, in my dreams

I used to open my arms as if they were wings

And flew around the neigbourhood

And perched on the higher branch of an oak

That then stood in my backyard

But they, my siblings, my childhood friends

Heard me talking about it

About the bird in my chest

They all laughed about it

An eagle soaring over forests, beyond the mountains

Past the sun

So wild, the bird in my chest, so wild, so free

With the years, however, alas, life is a however

With the years somewhat, with the years

As I grew up, as I became an adult

The bird, the eagle in my chest

Flew away onto other chests, perhaps to perch on other hearts

Yet sometimes, in the street, I can feel the relentless stare of the bird

Observing me, scrutinizing me

From behind the eyes of that boy, of that man, of that girl

Of that woman.