On sunny days of summer, I am indeed the butterfly; And like the ancient drummer, I rhythm straight towards the sky...
When the shadows shroud the woods, And the mountains are empty and bare; I am flying with the crow...
To hear her name I truly yearn, My heart is crying out; The sense of love I wish to earn, Without a second doubt.
For those who sense and comprehend, They know that heaven is at hand; The river blue which stream and stream, It has the pictures of my dream.
