Song, meadow, backwaters of the river,–
This life is just a dream to me.
The light from the pink icons
On my eyelashes of golden.
Let not the young man I am the gentle,
The splash of pigeons' wings.
My dream joyful and gentle
In the hands of your innocent.
I do not need a grave sigh,
Word does not embrace the mystery.
learn, so you can
Never wake up.