Wearing a Buddhist wise man mask,
you silently arrive at the spot,
at the temple in a mountain
with signs of eternity.

The dusty and orderly placed
objects with hieratic signs
leave a menacing emptiness,
the smile becomes impolite
in the middle of a ceremony.

I will strengthen everything saying words
in a whisper
in the honor of the reincarnated god.
The white and red palaces,
where monks and pilgrims pray,
are supported by countless columns;
ritually,
we pray along as well.