Cherry orchards

I lay on the ground,

the little radio man is singing.

Smiling like a content man's corpse.

I've fallen off the music playing,

into the locust filled cherry orchards. 

O what you wrote , what you wrote!

The wind then taps on my window,

and then the rain.

O we sit sharing a beautiful 

thing drenched in pain.

The winds coming from the horizon 

sit next to me,

O dear sit and tell me what i wish to hear.

The calmness hammers on the pounding heart.

O sire my world comes crashing down.

The cuckoo finds her children aren't hers,

the skies find what they shower isn't theirs,

And i find this breath,was all mine.

O What you wrote , what i did !

Then the wisdom prevails

the heart bounces back.

The songs of a railway station, 

and what you wrote.

The folk of the wise-land kiss my hand

and I leave with a smile for you and all.

Some samber and a song for your happy journey.

Tonight I'll sing all my melodies again 

For a soul shouldn't walk on thin rope.