I drink the light, but I'm still dead,
I drink an end, more glasses I want,
the cascades are too soft for me,

I drink thoughts and the ideas don't born
from the poor plain of my mind,
I drink words and pains, more and more,

I drink the bone's bottle,
the grave from my blind eye,
that's enough with my solitude;
I drink a mountain of dreams...

I drink... I become a glass?