What's in my heart? A graveyard in a spring.
You see, life never ends and only goes around.
And everything you feel, - to tiny bit of things -
Goes out in the sky and then goes back to ground.
The Life in life looks like an eternal wheel -
the birth, the death, the memory, the hope.
The hope for times to come, for some and better deal
by blaming circomstances for the last flope.
I feel no pain, no sorrow, no grief:
I'm watching life goes blossoming and lavish.
I guard my yard from ruffians and thieves,
And I pull out those weeds and rubbish.
And on my yard among the stones with names,
And memories about what in life've been done,
Red roses grow like the holy flame..
Red roses grow right out to the shining sun.
And that remind me the simple rule:
That everything what I have put in a grave,
Comes out (even if it was a deadly cruel)
As beautiness of life. The Life is safe.
Let birds sing songs above my head, above
My darkest thoughts, what may come so sudden.
I buried all. Alive my human Love.
It's not a grave, it is a perfect garden.