I stand on this slightly damp grass, Looking up at the millions of sparkling specks above On this placid, clear April night, My whole world illuminated, serene.
The noise of crickets blends into the silence The north star flickers above the silhouette of the big tree It is not the north star that exists at this moment Wise men say it is from a thousand years ago.
If there were a soul immortal, right there, right now Looking this way, thinking tranquil thoughts He will perhaps see me ten centuries from now When this night, this cool turf and me, will have long faded away.
Some sleepless bird suddenly chirps and becomes silent again I am overwhelmed by the enormity of the boundless My own worry, my own struggle, my own sorrow, my own being Now seem trifling, I lay down on the grass, still.
