Blue cover with my name inscribed, I turn,
And enter the maze of mysterious figures -
Reflection of number, fill my eyes,
The meanings of which I seem not to take inside.
On the interior of my soul, I feel,
And flowing through my mind, I hear,
The abounding stream of visions,
Murmuring down the waterfall of my heart,
Taking along with it, the fallen Autumn leaves,
And the amiable brown pebbles,
Touching and sweeping over the timeless rocks,
Heading towards, from where comes
The faraway tunes of the foams.
From the tides of imaginations,
And from the aroma of dreams, I return
Upon the black and white that lay
Open in front of my eyes.
Pages have turned, when, I know not,
And the flute of feelings I hold, I see,
Have pasted my musical reverie,
Upon the last of the pages.