Liquid Holes in the Sky

Five thousand airplanes take off for the sky
The water in the brook is almost running dry
The boats passing the sound
Are just too many to count
An infinite number
Of grains of sand
Are passing through
Our hour-glass

While I embrace the emptiness
Inside my liquid holes in the sky
By kind permission of a crying wind
My infinite whirlwinds of thoughts
Are incessantly resting in the grass
Behind the hills

Minutes, hours, year are slowly passing by
We're watchers of the changes in the course of history
And as the number of the question mark
Along our way increases
An infinite number
Of grains of hope
Are crumbled in
Our hour-glass

While I intertwine the emptiness
Inside my liquid holes in the sky
By kind permission of the rising sun
My infinite whirlwinds of thoughts
Are incessantly restored
In the windmills of my mind