You are a billeting once and listen,
What does your soul want?
We so often don't listen to soul,
On a habit hurrying somewhere...

We it is so frequent - in desires of thoughts
And it is so rare - in intentions of feelings.
You are a billeting and think of sense,
Why your well is empty?

Where they are your children's dreams?
In them soul is so fondly clean...
You cry and shed these tears
Will wash away dust from your life of a leaf

You will see shine of paints:
Yellow, pink, blue...
You will see all faces without masks
Also you will understand that God near you.