When my sun rises, the raging terror that wanders in the sheer darkness, cast into fear and disappear.
When my sun rises, the ugly faces of the wrinkled hills regain their beauty and wear their green veil again.
When my sun rises, the old cracked layers that cover the dilapidated houses show their youthful, forgotten colors again.
When my sun rises, the brokenhearted birds can sing the praises of the glorious eternal love again.
When my sun rises, a goodhearted shepherd can lead his sheep through the sharp, misleading rift again.
When my sun rises, the insecurity and old fears that inhabit the hearts of fear-controlled villagers begin to fade away and they regain their brave nature again.
When my sun rises, the lonely hearts of abandoned souls begin to feel the pulse of renewed hope in them again.
When my sun rises, the frightened children will ignore their ingrained fear and hurry joyfully towards their playground again.
When my sun rises, my despair will be crushed by the rays of your splendid love, and I can wear the armor of light again.
When my sun rises, I can make you ride on my horse, and toward the place of sunrise, we can keep our souls united again.