Drowsy the noonday air...

Drowsy the noonday air,

Under the trees the still shadow

Like a fugitive fragment of night

Seeks shelter from the sun.

The bird has ceased singing,

The beggar unable to bear

The wealth of the sun

Spreads his torn garment,

To find peace in

The benign shadow of sleep.

Ah, lone soul like him,

I spread this rag of my song.

Under the tree of life

Over which blazes the sun of fate.

The calm of its shadow

Protects me, but where my peace?