My soul craves for travel
a long pilgrimage for peace
far far beyond the borders;
into the lap of hills,
into the womb of forests,
he plunges himself
into the train of winds,
hops over caravans of clouds.
to quench his thirst
for silence glimmering
over the yonder horizon.
and to escape
from the grotesque colonies
of naked trees
that haunt his dreams
forever.
he dreams
for a journey
into a dream
where the whole world
of living beings fly on wings
scattering sweet syllables in the air;
where even a leaf before it falls
to the ground
plays around sailing
in a boat of song.
where the sun
comes into the drawing room of the sky,
as hills wake up,
woods wake up,
to wander about
like a dreamy nomad.
where rows and rows
of tall trees
take out long processions of silences;
where the marriage of earth and sky
is solemnized in the cathedral of blue hills;
where a nameless bird
merely sitting in the branch
turns the surroundings into a tune,
where red-gum and sandalwood trees
bath in puddles of evening,
and arrive with drops of red flowers
hanging from tips of leaves,
where the moon like a child crawls
over the roof of the house and
tempts you to clasp him with your hands-
To the valleys of that dream
my soul long to go
beyond the reach
of those haunting naked trees;
this is the pilgrimage to peace-
