Pilgrimage

My soul craves for travel…
A long pilgrimage for peace
Far far beyond the borders;
Into the laps of hills,
Into the womb of forests,
To plunge itself
Into the train of winds,
Hop over caravans of clouds.
To quench its pining thirst
For silence glimmering
Over the plush horizon.

And to escape
Forever
From the grotesque colonies
Of naked emotions
And irksome realities

It dreams
For a journey
To the land…

Where the whole world
Of living beings fly on wings
Scattering sweet syllables in the air;
Where even a leaf before it falls
To the ground
Plays around sailing
In a boat of song.

Where the sun
Comes into the drawing room of the sky,
As hills wake up,
Woods arouse,
To wander about
Like a wistful nomad.
Where rows and rows
Of tall trees
Take out long processions of silences;
Where the marriage of earth and sky
Is solemnized in the cathedral of blue hills;

Where a nameless bird
Merely sitting on the branch
Turns the surroundings into a tune,
Where red-gum and sandalwood trees
Bath in puddles of evening,
And arrive with drops of red flowers
Hanging from tips of leaves,
Where the moon like a child crawls
Over the roof of the house and
Tempts everyone to embrace.

To the valleys of that dream
My soul longs to go
Beyond the reach
Of those haunting naked impassive faces;

This would be my pilgrimage to peace…