O who is going there,
twisting to corner of my mind?
Igniting fire in the deep forest and hammering?

How many winter and spring nights have passed?
How many lovely mornings?
How many storms and thunders have passed,
making my burning eyes weep?

His image is there in the floral garden
and in the far sun of the sky.
For Him,
I tolerate hundreds of burns and tortures.

........................................................

O who is going there,
twisting the corner of my mind?
Igniting fire in the deep forest (of my mind)
and awakening me with hammered beating?

How many winter and spring
nights have passed?
How many lovely mornings?
How many storms and thunders,
making my eyes weep and burn?

His image is in floral gardens
and in the distant sun of the sky.
For Him alone, I am tolerating
hundreds of burns and tortures.