Oh pious advocates of peace!
Oh beatific doves of peace!
Hear me oh hear me
For the voice of mine is numb
To the one I profoundly love.
Your voice is but a lore of truth!
That which often goes hidden to the many men,
Those who walk for the living sake!

She who I love hears your voice with fondness
Trusting its novelty, the wisdom it speaks of.
Talk to her of my remorse
For I have learnt the wisdom
That which remorse had to teach!

Oh selfless hands of the earth!
Oh liberal branches of the trees!
Hear me oh hear me
For the deeds of mine are frail
To the one I profoundly love.
Your deeds are but a lore of self giving!
Often granted to the many men,
Those who walk for living sake!

She who I love is an ardent witness to your deeds
Trusting your tranquility, the selflessness you abide to.
Talk to her of my deeds
For I have learnt the wisdom
That which the brunt of misdeeds had to teach!

Talk to her of my remorse oh doves of peace!
Talk to her of my deeds oh liberal branches of the trees!
Talk to her of me!