When the night comes
, the blackness resumes, the
frame of every window
encompasses your picture,
the one who knocks on your door,
this is the voice of the passerby,
not the wind of the passerby,
the one who has arrived from the journey,
like every night, God
has your fragrance, the air is
the owner of your house, you are the owner of the house,
our small house did
not believe in love except you, I
did not turn to ashes from the fire
, I sat on the fire like an
anemone, I sat on the fire, but I did not fill the anemone all
over the world, soul. I cant find the world of language, where should I
look for you,
anywhere on earth, at any time,
in any earthly place, and at a time
like every night, God
has your fragrance, the air is
the owner of your house, our
little house, I
didnt believe in love, except for you, I
didnt turn from the fire to ashes, I
sat on the fire like an anemone,
but I didnt fill the anemone everywhere
in the world,
I cant fill the world with a language,
where should I look for you,
anywhere on earth, etc. There is a time
in every place on earth and at a time
like every night, God
has your fragrance, the air
is the owner of your house,
our small house
when night comes
, the blackness resumes,
the frame of every window
encompasses your picture.
