As the Sun goes down
Its light is brighter
As the river flows
It has no end
The depth is high
For words to reach
Therefore the world is quiet
Our mother tongue was once a song
The ancient hymn of silence
Sung by the flights of voiceless birds
That wend their way to sunrise
…Our doom, to speak
And say nothing
To think eternally
And not to dream
To build the ruins
And celebrate
Another day of our defeat
We’re blind to see
The river’s bottom
We’re deaf to hear
Its whispering call
And yet the water’s still and quiet
Awaiting silver wind to blow
The world is silent…
