Let me make it clear to you, love,

It is not like the leaves of the trees

that bow down to the sounds of the wind,

Nor is it water sipped by the sand of Nyiri desert.

What is this confusion for, love?

For goodness sake, understand these feeble phrases,

For the source has broke through dusk and dawn looking for them,

It is not like the fog that falls when sun comes.

Is it the night that shivers when light comes?

Or the body that gets tired of pain?

Is it the sun that gets covered with clouds?

Or the rainbow that disappears before the glassy eyes of those kids?

It is not all these mortals, but-

Let me make it clear to you, love,

She is not something that ends

Nor can her start be fathomed,

But in her love, lies something that needs to be cheered, urgently.