Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.
Troupe of little vagrants of the world, leave your footprints in my words.
The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal.
It is the tears of the earth that keep here smiles in bloom.
The mighty desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away.