"Meanwhile, you stand above the wide river,
over a fertile plains, like a shield, raised and hard.
Blissfully resonating with a distant thunder,
weaving through ages, with lightning, your own line.
There is no, in you, my human sadness.
Like an archer’s, your look is mute and straight.
Like rain, you turn tears to colorful rainbows
and, inhaled, cool me, like a distant pine. "