A life of a half – shadowy branch
A snowberry shrub likely is a tough and white.
Perhaps it offers me an enjoyable sleepy night
Horrors of medians turn me again suspicious
Not I do come close, soon to be hazardous.
A sequent of time as a bird I remise
Once it touches the grain, hurriedly it flies
Either to eat until satiety or to die in poverty
That's our life it has no security at all
Whence you cry it gives you a tyrant soul.
Once you are happy, it gives you a black door.
Perhaps an intimate friend turns as an aching sore.
A sincere beloved perhaps tumbles as an obsolete shore.
Once you are grieved, it gives you additional pain.
Perhaps it lends you a corrupted malicious drain
Let me puzzled in its sorrow and keep survived
Let me sought its bright way not being halted
As a feather with a wind it will be driven
As a masked face, no long it will be hidden.
What peace is to claim in this world after severe years?
From which noxious time can you find peers?
A time you picked your stick, no longer it will be broken
Tied up, until my bone cracks under its heavy wheel
For which dark phase of its attire should you deal?
From which cancroids death of its puzzle can you inhale?
It was adorned with blood at an unfathomable mine
No dream should be obvious in its flickering wine
As a continued train never finds a station
But the green tree ever it has giving shelter
Beside its shady shadow, you can find food and water
A refuge is ready to your fatigued soul
And to sleep without unusual call
To sleep without any enormous foe
Beside its lovely boughs, you hear the dove coo
There the harmonic tone will be immortally
And the sparrow will come to welcome you politely
Spreading its wings for peace rightly yet not in fortuity