From solemn dream, I am
awakened -
in every first wailing,
echoing like waves of heat around me,
each time I rise, I burn
and burn then, I die -
flooding the floor of my rebirth.
It started when, I greeted,
burned every year as seed grow,
then follows a year or months
where unknown to me claimed
my delight - in their birth,
in their death.
Thus, by far,
my favorite part was this -
the town where in gloom and frightening,
white and mask all over,
and in lying eternity of sleeping bones,
I am not to be burn alone!
Ah! I had wished a thousand clay,
of which it'll light for year and never decay -
from rising and dying, I am to be free,
yet, here I am again, colored in rainbows
only to grant other's blowing prayer,
and all I could spoke,
"light me with joy, burn me in stillness
and when chilling snow ended - I shall die, again,
in peace."