Here is the wild and icy immensity of a desolate life  The one which was mine due to my past  This past of a dead warrior  How can I make this life the way I should have lived it ?  If not by dreams I would subdue. That way we could see me while asleep  silent still but happy  Concquering a part of my wasted past making up for all youth 's pleasures  I saw my mother and my father during the act of my conception  I saw the child I was becoming that picture  I saw once again the dead who were the incarnation of my own pain  I saw once again that man who followed me and watched me in order to help me  I remembered about that shamble and that rescue  But I annihilated those memories recreating from my dreams a new youth which  I should control  Travelling in the broad places of my mind venturing into experiences which I  have not lived  Filling impetuously my emptyness by braving the past through my dreams