From this cup of my lips comes a song;
It captures my singing soul, my song.
...
The sound of green footsteps is the rain
They're coming in from the road, now
Thirsty souls and dusty skirts brought from the desert
...
O exiles of the mountain of oblivion!
O the jewels of your names, slumbering in the mire of silence
O your obliterated memories, your light blue memories
In the silty mind of a wave in the sea of forgetting
...
No desire to open my mouth
What should I sing of...?
I, who am hated by life.
...
You, exiles of the mountains of oblivion
You, diamonds of your names sleeping in quagmire of silence
You the ones your memories faded, memories of light blue
...