O boy! The blue bird of luck flaps its wings,
Rushing up straight to the skies;
O boy! A hunting rifle is aimed. What to anticipate?
There's no delay in pulling the trigger. So?

Hurry up! This page in your life must hastily be turned
To meet some pleasant images and nice details,
Making your sweet anticipations easily coming true again.

Now you enjoy your fun, and the blue bird is on high.
Again, as before, you talk about goodwill and rights,
Sorting thoroughly your ideas and designs. Still,
Such a page of pleasure is bestowed on you accidentally!

It's only one among another nine --
That is the true ratio of luck. The question is:
Who brushes thru the chapters of your life?
Whose fingers turn all the pages one by one?

What was before? And what to expect then?
And what is really behind each line?. . Again,
A line runs after line to make you feel dozy;
Again, longing for changes you think of flight,
Leaving in a hurry each harassing paragraph.

And all the same question drills your mind:
When it is going to happen? When? When?
Not so soon, my friend, not so fast! The truth is
That time doesn't need the number of your years;
What Heaven's looking for is just the smoke from flue.