I built my house
My habitat in darkness
Adding stone over stone
A boulder at the time.
My dream house
Built with living stones
With bones and flesh
From my mortal body.
My house of my body
Has no windows
And no doors either
Only an invisible bridge
Suspended between
Me and the world
Between life and death
Between earth and heavens
With broken rusty chains
Anchored from within.
Every day I am walking
Over that old bridge
But at dusk I am lifting
The rusty anchors
I am closing the gates
So that no one could see
The hidden dark side
Inside of my house.
Plantele din tundră sunt mici şi cresc aproape de pământ pentru a se proteja de vânturi aspre şi temperaturi joase. Unele dintre ele au peri pe tulpină pentru a ţine de cald.
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