Here a cold noon in tired sun
Here in smell of dust, twilight descends
Here my mystic childhood wanders
Here in the soil, in rock my root is buried
At last here the root will be burnt
All ashes, all the desire will fly
Burnt and flown in ashes
If I leave, let's go
Bringing the dragged skyline
We'll be close in flowers and crops
A nice poem, a touching one, very well written.