The path never ceases –travels from way onto way,
It is covered with the leaves of antiquity
That are woven in the earth’s muddish array,
As if seeking someone, as if in search of eternity.
The clouds float high above and watch beneath;
Often bemoaning, for their life’s vanity;
They are born, they wander, they die in a myth,
As if in search of a cherished desire, as if in search of eternity.
The ocean, hiding the gloom of thousands in its breast
Receives all, nurtures all – full of divinity;
Centuries have passed, but the ocean – never does it rest,
As if deemed to be immortal, as if in search of eternity.
And that poor old man – with torn clothes and gloomy face,
Bearing the burden of man’s cruelty
Also struggles and survives, worn out in the selfish race,
As if in search of life, as in search of eternity.