BELOW THE OAK TREE
Gone are the stormy nights and rainy days...

The day was gloomy, particular rainy weather,
and for a jacket or umbrella, I never bother...

A silent figure,rowed in the dark,
It had no lust for the silver moon...

While we rest in peace
after spending myself I had earned this trip...

On the background of my darkness,
he sprinkled some drops of white...

As the world goes to sleep,
as the infants cease to weep...

He used to sit there,
in an awkward cube of glass...

Everyday I drink a bit of poison,
call me crazy but I have a reason...

So this is how I end,
burning with a hectic glow...

The clock struck twelve,
time for the final call...

What looks like a hole
is but a well...

May god bless you to life,
may your needs be sufficed...