Though the world doesn't end here
And history doesn't begin
The secret garden (is) so beautiful
That time wanted to stop there
It tied back the gales' hair by dream
And it breathed very, very quietly
When at dawn it was painting the sleepy leaves by secret
The grief of wasted years
The garden's calling you by half-shadows
Here you're a white flower of hollyhock
A tangerine as sweet as a dream
And blood-red pomegranate
The shrubs of pale-blue roses
Next to them the open ground's calling
To enter, bury yourself and stand
Motionlessly just like them
The grief of wasted years
The dance of persistent thoughts continues
The echos of past desires come back
There's no time for loving the weird shadows
In the avalanche of next events
Today you entrust the tears again
With your oblivion's secret of silence
The pain (is) so cold like a withered sun
Of joy and dream
An orchid on the hand
A wild-poppy on the heart
The memory chases the wind
It whispers the grief into the ear
The garden's calling you by half-shadows
Here you're a white flower of hollyhock
A tangerine as sweet as a dream
And blood-red pomegranate
The shrubs of pale-blue roses
Next to them the open ground's calling
To enter, bury yourself and stand
Motionlessly just like them
The painted pond
Affectionately fertilised by dreams
Your secret garden's blooming
Where the blessed peace is