In the morning din and among clamor of clouds,
Honing my pensive strength, wishing for more,
I look above, with hope, with preoccupied whims,
I look above and let them fall,
Fall on my face, one by one, again and again.
Alone I stand, waiting for more,
More to accompany, to repent in pain,
I hear it all, voices converting into noises,
I hear above all the hymn of nature,
Resonating inside, note by note, again and again.
Like a newborn pod, among old trees,
With jest and pride, lo I glide.
I feel it inside, the need to rectify,
I feel it, even when I feel nothing,
Searing inside, paining, drenching, again and again.
Everyone cried like they were part of jejune clan,
Days were passed forgetting their crimes in vain,
I ask for atonement, but where are others now
I ask to her, sorry but sure, out of worry and care,
For better lesson, cringing and cloying, rain don’t come again.