So said the Breezes addressing those departing,
"To search for the long departed is certainly a futile effort,
for who has ever found the traces of the long departed!
you, who wander about the darkness
carrying shimmering lamps in your eyes,
youl tell us,
has anything ever sprouted from dead earth!"

Ruined by an eternally secure nature,
paths of imagination tell tales,
of the precious footsteps of the long departed,
arouse hopes of union;
mingling with the verdant smell of roselike bodies,
by the living knock of their quiet rustlings.

Were you to ask about the abodes
of those passionate faces, questioning eyes;

Those paths of imagination peer at you
as though words:
have been severed from their meanings
and utterances:
have clustered in the ambiguous whirlwind of anonymity.

So said the journeys addressing those departing,
"Travel is an ocean of trials and afflictions.

It is entirely a whirlpool.

The gait of the long departed is
nothing more than the vagaries of desert winds,
unaware of its waystations,
It is a mirage;

More credible than clear vision.

Every spectacle is a tunic of perishing colours, as
failures and dreams go hand in hand"

So said the Stars, addressing those departing
"But the longing to rekindle previous friendship
Is the path to union
The new word derives vitality from the
reappearance of timeworn letters.

Beware, now that you have left your homes,
Stasis is:
decadence, demise of existence,
Quest is
eternal fire of eyes,
The path to the unseen destination
is illumined by those who have long departed."