Playing under Niri mountain...

    Playing under Niri mountain
    on the golden sand of times
    growing goldencurled sirin
    on mothers milk.

    He is bright by mind and Spirit,
    he loved by valleys and by mountain,
    fog is like angels wings
    lies like a crown on the head of young hero.

    I looked into his eyes,
    and asked, weeping quietly:
    "Tell me, what icons
    did you blessed, baby, elder?.."

    That glorious by Spirit paladin
    flashed by armors, playing
    by winds of marble-snow hair,
    in threshold of silent heaven

    tracing thoughtful runes
    on the golden sand by sword...
    "His spaces many-stringed
    by the waters of Lethe. by the Lunar eye

    over this hill - his crown -
    divine fog of El;
    chamber, and flaming Singer -
    here wondrous god of Titurel.

    He is brigth by mind and Word
    gives life to the adrooping Pleiades,
    by Love, by Spirit eternally new,
    by non-wasting flames

    He healed me...""Then
    now you are holding way to where?
    And what are you have to perform?.."
    "Divine thread commands

    to reach hearts behind the white scar
    gold covered wasteland
    and at the foot of the Ashrama
    erect lunar monastery."