In a way that cannot be explained,
the wistful smiles of the children
have no age, no true owner.
They belong, as everything else,
to the river, to the streets, to the sky.

You see, my friend,
herein lies the end of thought.
Everything is lost, never to be found again.
Like the rain mixing with the ocean,
a scent that carries a forgotten fragrance
will never be remembered.

It is here, through this nothingness,
that true beauty will be found.
We will quench our dry hearts,
and love forever, for love is everything
and nothing.

And we will share joy with the children
and grow old, and melt,
and grow young, and dance,
for this is the song of the eternal, the beautiful
and the meaningless.