Though thy eyes see the same stars,
That these woeful ones of mine do;
And though among these stars they must look for him,
And implore for that which is impossible,
Just as I do�
And yet, what play of fate is it,
That the eyes that see the same stars,
And implore to the same God, should be deprived of each other?
My eyes fail to close without painful memories flooding the dark,
And sleep too, will come only with dreams that behold you.
The dew that settles on the gentle flower,
Reflect the tears that trickled down your cheeks,
In the dust that the path of the rays singles out,
I see the dust that was kicked up by the horses in the war,
And every time the waves beat the cliffs,
I see friends and foes alike, falling on hard ground�
The lightning that rips the sky apart,
May lose faith in the thunder that follows it,
I shall never lose heart,
Heaven or hell, we will meet again�
He laughs well at my misery,
Why else should he inspire music in the wind,
Sweet as it may be,
That tears my heart better than the sharpest of knifes�
He laughs louder and louder,
He makes the rain pat the puddles in the sand,
And sees that I suffer in the middle of beauty infinite,
Waiting for you.
I have waited for long,
Life is a trifle, a trivial wait,
Now is not too far from death,
The sole goal of the troublesome breath.
* * *