On this spring evening, covered with moonlight,
looking at Your path in the colourful wind,
tiredness does not come to my mind.

I do not remember, how many eras have thus passed,
nor how many springs have been lost, crying in darkness.

Wherever You have remained,
with whatever feelings You have smiled,
You have been in rhythms and songs.

I do not know how many more eras will pass like that.
I do not know when You will come with items of love,
into the secluded corner of my mind,

with the resonance of consciousness,
or when the distant sky will merge in my life.