In the horizon by the fall of the dark Even today appears silver and glossy like my j**el In the darkness a cold diamond The touch of dreams A ceramic flute sounds in your picture "Why the sun also doesn't shine on the reverse side of the moon?" I ask myself when your light divides my room into shadows Lots of clouds in a face of white dust Imprints of stellar heaven messengers created your face Lots of old-men know your outlines surely by heart When they can't sleep in the dark nights And I'll also grow old and my hair will become a silver shine As grey as yours And like all of us I'll forget the stupid dreams which oppress me And I'll again silently whisper to the darkness "What are you hiding, why can't I know your reverse face?"