For whom is my restless mind hankering
in rest, dream, sleep and awakened states?

Who is that magician that continues to call me?
The sandal breeze blows in all four directions.
By hand signals, effulgence invites itself
through the gaps of clouds.
Which distant melody are the floral pollen,
absorbed in sweet fragrance, singing?

My mind does not want to stay home;
it does not know
how it is to reply to its caller.
My concentrated, unexpressed consciousness within
wants to convey itself
and break asunder all obstructions.