And raindrops wash the window glass pane ...

                         Raindrops knock on my window's glass pane,

               quietude cradles the evening,

               my landscape sleeps in twilight's embrace,

               stillness rests in lonely dreaming,

               an easy moment's whispering voice

               repeats my name in silent chords,

               persistent calling, unworldly choice

               sent by soft immortal tones,

               I'm here, my Lord, surrender in soul,

               ready for work, ready to go,

               got so tired in my confusing role,

               like a clown who was weak or bold,

               but never gave up the Earthly life;

               now show me, please, your sanctified

               Akasha Chronicle's occult side!

              ... no sign... my room's silence replies,

               past's gentle touch smooths the night,

               my landscape lies under clouds' lace,

               quietude rocks the sleepy fate, whilst

               raindrops wash the window glass pane.