I asked the rivers - where are you?
I asked the clouds where you are, -

And the rivers said you are not on this earth,
And the clouds replied you are not in the skies.

Who will now comb my long hair?
Who will break me some yellow honeycomb?

The fields in the morning are cold and sore.
My hands are hot and empty at night...

Tell me the flower into which you will be born!
Tell me the wind in which you will come alive!