The fog restricts the hills is my view
As some stubborn sun rays try to leap over
The grass beneath my feet is lush with dew,
And my fears begin to take cover
Through trepid valleys that even death fear
Through dark caves where greed ghouls lay
To a rocky cliff, Siren wails here
I want to, but dont fall on my knees and pray
What I search for, I know not where to find
Nor if I would, but the path beckons still
Little regret for the luxuries left behind
The trail of rose petals blind-guides my will
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem