To seek one's self, to go find one's self
can the wanderer, still frightened by old dreams,
only far away from the big cities.
Step by step
the enemy does not stay the enemy
and the friend a friend.
Cozy dawn surrounds the hate.
The wanderer hears the rhythms of the throbbing blood
while warmth pours into the hand,
and safety in the sight of even an unknown soul
can promise hope on an ordinary morning.
Life is no longer a vain search for warmth.
People do not possess each other, instead they go together
as a flame that passes through another flame.