Satin cloth

Pensive days are over

I'm in the midst of fortress

Surrounded by green thick wall

Some pebbles are in the ground

Chaos is fading from my heart 

Clock strickes queerly sometimes

Mortal Socrates and Ideal Plato is here for me

They'll ossify my void

"Theos" is far away from sight

It's time for the "vānaprastha"

Though I'm at the gateway,

I'll run miles to gain

That shining pure satin cloth

One awkward question remains after all:

"Are you glad for me?"