The moon stands aggrieved with night, perfect dark empty streets,
The cries of a few drunkards, stray dogs bark.

Listen to the melody that the rain gives to your soul,
Open your heart, cool down with the breeze drop by drop.

Why do we want to be on the top of snowy mountains?
We nurture the feeling of inaccessibility within us.

The river flowing with a roaring and enthusiastic flow seems to give advice to the stones,
If I knew the language of birds, I would ask the birds about the pleasure of flying.

Let your soul rest in the fresh waters, so that your weary body may rest,
How can one body contain thousands of bodies?

Birds cannot fly in the rain, their wings get wet,
I saw big rocks, leaning on small stones.

Those who are troubled are saddened, too,
Hands are open in prayer and tears fall from their eyes.

Who knows mountains, are a home for which unknown?
There is harmony in everything, cold white snow falls.