I stand on this slightly damp grass,
Looking up at the millions of sparkling specks above
On this placid, clear April night,
My whole world illuminated, serene.
The noise of crickets blends into the silence
The north star flickers above the silhouette of the big tree
It is not the north star that exists at this moment
Wise men say it is from a thousand years ago.
If there were a soul immortal, right there, right now
Looking this way, thinking tranquil thoughts
He will perhaps see me ten centuries from now
When this night, this cool turf and me, will have long faded away.
Some sleepless bird suddenly chirps and becomes silent again
I am overwhelmed by the enormity of the boundless
My own worry, my own struggle, my own sorrow, my own being
Now seem trifling, I lay down on the grass, still.