Upon his land lives the peace Where the ray of Moon bathes In the falling leaves of the trees Representing an ancientness On his back is the burden of eternity. His song is roaming paths in the wilderness As incalculably as a blind animal Living under the ground Craving a way for itself Though starts with an aimlessness It does find the asylum finally Smells not of the end
Washing his hands In the water of the crook Pouring from the mountain Drifting time and wisdom Defending life itself. It awakens new thoughts In his silented soul. Bearing something from the world... Perhaps a treasure Covered by riddle and twilight Defended by a power undestroyable? There High above In the mountains In the forsaken fields Swept by wind In an eternal familiarity Disturbed by nothing and no one The word of the old wiseman Pays hommage to the Universe... ...to it's unbreakable beauty.
An eternal life.
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