Something is hidden behind the inner silence
Playing beneath a simple nature
Down the ladder of a long tradition intertwined
Time to ride for the world
Green grass spreads like a heaven rug
The tops of the leaves sway to the rhythm of the beads
The echo of praise is softly calling on the one
Wet on the lips covered in a series of sacred verses
The time of life never grows
Grass shoots scattered in a
Nursery fields
Born from a purely whispered heart whisper
On the resignation of the soul
There is no power in the world except the possession of the ruler universe
The shoots of the leaves again swayed on a twilight
Convey all greetings to the lord of the king
Among the tears in tears with a deep longing
In the midst of peaked hope has now set
The swaying grass is a mirror of imitation
The words flow gently from the heart of a sacred heart
Strongly resist the mudflow of worldliness
Timeless in eating time to maintain the nobility of conscience.
that towering grass as it wishes to touch the sky with its longing.