Myanmar, in Bakan

Along the fresh waves of the green earth

The feast of golden pagodas is unfolding.

Still borrowing the dawn, as the fog comes

The first dew in the morning rolls around like a grievance.

The footsteps of the mountain temple bloomed brilliantly,

Before I knew it, my heart was filled with the scent of flowers

The noise of all the worlds that bumped into each other   

I can only be quiet here

Clumsy hearts have nowhere to go.

Only the sound of the bell can be heard

The smell of life hangs out to the heart,

The shadows are asking for a handshake.

A long time ago, that sad song

Forever the faint smile of the Buddha

It seems that he is already asleep only in his memory

Just write down the fragrance under the detached incense lamp,

Hanging on to tomorrows that are not too far away

Today, somewhere is disappearing.

Full of love

In the hearts of pure eyes,

Never small but beautiful

With the merciful hands of sharing and humility

While adding to the humanity of Myanmar

All that heart is just that.