The fate entangled into my footsteps,
like roots of old-aged trees under the feet of a pilgrim.
Then a quiet death gave me its hand,
in silence, I see the last leaves to fall down on my body
lying down, on a soft carpet of grass.

Look, moon’s coming out for those who were forgotten
For those who remember the beauty
and disappearing of all around.
The beauty and disappearing of human life
that is coming and lost
as a mist above a dark forest.

A dew falls down quietly on my face to moisturize it,
like a mother’s tears on a face of her son,
who leaves to eternity sooner than the others around.

Sunrise, the last that I see
henceforth, I remain fascinated by the beauty of the night,
which all, brings me everything that I have ever desired for.
My body goes dead but my soul will rise,
from the ashes like a phoenix.

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