The eve of golden falls
Hangs on your shady cliff
Let my blood flow under your eyes
Let the night wave a soft blanket
Gently hold my beating heart rolling from the Sun
Will experience deep but nontransparent days
Will arrive at a silent shore of stars, where sands wait for
being swept away
My sigh lives in a song of wave
Longing for entering your closed cabin
Bearing the heavy March I cannot stop my steps
My string plays the rain of night and mud of dawn
The eyesight flowing from a cold window cannot heat the stones
They chime in my mild melancholy melody
The waiting heart is an arrow off bowl
Running wildly for a secrete word
For being at a long forgotten field
Sowing seeds, outgrowing wheat