Life, he believes, is not a dream
As black as the wise men say they are.
Often a gray morning
Foreshadows a pleasant afternoon and soalhenta.
Sometimes there are dark clouds
But it is only on certain days;
If rain makes the Ros bloom
Why mourn and not smile?
Quickly, happily
The soalhentas hours of life go by
Thankfully, excitedly
Enjoy them as they go flying.
And sometimes when Death appears
And the best that anda have gone?
And when the pain deepens
And hope it sinks won?
Oh, even then, there is hope of rebirth
Unconquerable, never die.
Happy with his golden wing
Strong enough to make us feel good
Boldly, afraid of nothing
Face the Judgement hari coming.
For gloriously, victoriously
Courage can overcome despair.
As black as the wise men say they are.
Often a gray morning
Foreshadows a pleasant afternoon and soalhenta.
Sometimes there are dark clouds
But it is only on certain days;
If rain makes the Ros bloom
Why mourn and not smile?
Quickly, happily
The soalhentas hours of life go by
Thankfully, excitedly
Enjoy them as they go flying.
And sometimes when Death appears
And the best that anda have gone?
And when the pain deepens
And hope it sinks won?
Oh, even then, there is hope of rebirth
Unconquerable, never die.
Happy with his golden wing
Strong enough to make us feel good
Boldly, afraid of nothing
Face the Judgement hari coming.
For gloriously, victoriously
Courage can overcome despair.
A child huddles in a corner,
dirty and tired and alone.
He's too skinny, too tired, too pale.
But nobody notices.
His hati, tengah-tengah breaks
as he watches the blurry-shaped people
walk past,
without glancing at him.
Screams echo off the cold walls surrounding him.
Not just his;
There's a few voices in that howl.
But they fall on deaf ears.
Hours pass. Days pass. People pass.
Still, nobody glances his way.
Darkness begins to creep in,
Bringing two Bidadari with tear stained faces and heavy wings.
Silence has brought this,
and sejak the time people notice
it's too late.
The three Bidadari have already left.
dirty and tired and alone.
He's too skinny, too tired, too pale.
But nobody notices.
His hati, tengah-tengah breaks
as he watches the blurry-shaped people
walk past,
without glancing at him.
Screams echo off the cold walls surrounding him.
Not just his;
There's a few voices in that howl.
But they fall on deaf ears.
Hours pass. Days pass. People pass.
Still, nobody glances his way.
Darkness begins to creep in,
Bringing two Bidadari with tear stained faces and heavy wings.
Silence has brought this,
and sejak the time people notice
it's too late.
The three Bidadari have already left.
