[Az Öreg Bölcs]


Upon his land lives the peace

Where the ray of Moon bathes

In the falling leaves of the trees

Representing an ancientness

On his back is the burden of eternity.

His song is roaming paths in the wilderness

As incalculably as a blind animal

Living under the ground

Craving a way for itself

Though starts with an aimlessness

It does find the asylum finally

Smells not of the end


Washing his hands

In the water of the crook

Pouring from the mountain

Drifting time and wisdom

Defending life itself.

It awakens new thoughts

In his silented soul.

Bearing something from the world...

Perhaps a treasure

Covered by riddle and twilight

Defended by a power undestroyable?

There

High above

In the mountains

In the forsaken fields

Swept by wind

In an eternal familiarity

Disturbed by nothing and no one

The word of the old wiseman

Pays hommage to the Universe...

...to it's unbreakable beauty.


An eternal life.