In the life’s hustle
Restless the body rests,
The psyche roams a loner in the bustle;
The lamp is lit bright;
Longing is in high tide, that
The dusk has brought in quiet;
Time bears a heart of stone;
Hurt it is, a fated loser
Shalt thou come to be known;
The night sky hangs sad, dull-red;
In the day, in its sleep
The devil did shuffle its star-bed;
Let not the flickering hope die;
The darkest night too may
A golden dawn, hide.
***