Lives have past in expectation of Your advent,
yet none of my hopes have been realised.

None have come whom I longed for.
They have thronged in my mind
whom I never called.

All love, appearances and passings have drifted
on causing a rift between the present and the past.

While walking in the flower garden,
thorns pricked my feet.
In the whirl wind,
I savoured/sensed a sweet southern breeze.

My hopes are illusive mirages.
Only Your two rosy feet remain
as the last refuge
of my despondent heart.

___________________

Lives have passed
in expectation of Your advent,
yet my hopes remain
unrealised.

None have come
whom I longed for.
They have thronged in my mind
whom I never called.

All my love,
all my comings and goings
have drifted on
causing a rift
between the present and the past.

While walking in the flower garden
thorns pricked my feet.
In a whirlwind
I savour
a sweet southern breeze.

My hopes are illusive mirages.
Only Your crimson feet remain,
the last refuge
of my despondent heart.