O you who see myself alone and alone without you , wherever I set foot, I see you there, I remember that your eyes were full of pain and sorrow , the story of your homesickness, the height of a hundred stories, your memory is with me, wherever I am, my life is on fire
,
you were the sun for me, in this cold world, my wet cheeks were wiping your hands, now where are those two good hands, why are they silent, the lips of my good stories ? I cant believe all those memories of the man who loves the sky behind a window, the man of the sky has become stoned, God seems to be sleeping, as if he has not seen my cries from above,
remembering you wherever I am with me, he is setting my life on fire.
