Songtext von Ya Tair (O bird)

O bird flying on the tip of the world If you would only tell the beloved about me O bird. Go ask the one who is alone and wounded, all remedies of no avail pained and not telling what pains him and in his memory recur nights of childhood. O bird who carries the color of trees in which there's nothing but boredom and waiting with the sun's eye I wait on coldness of stone the hands of reparation shake me and I am troubled. I beseech you by your teachers which are equal to my days I beseech by the thorn-rose and the wind if you are going toward those whom I love and were love to erupt again take me even for one minute and return me.