In the horizon by the fall of the dark

Even today appears silver and glossy like my jewel

In the darkness a cold diamond

The touch of dreams

A ceramic flute sounds in your picture



"Why the sun also doesn't shine on the reverse side of the moon?"

I ask myself when your light divides my room into shadows



Lots of clouds in a face of white dust

Imprints of stellar heaven messengers created your face

Lots of old-men know your outlines surely by heart

When they can't sleep in the dark nights



And I'll also grow old and my hair will become a silver shine

As grey as yours

And like all of us

I'll forget the stupid dreams which oppress me

And I'll again silently whisper to the darkness

"What are you hiding, why can't I know your reverse face?"