To toast this age,
One evening I lifted my glass and saw
In the wine shadows of falling leaves
Hopes fading every minute, as stars by dawn-
This age has filled living breath with sighs-
World, a hemlock thrust into our hands,
Where the sun waste his light
On the sand dunes of this land-
A Desert this
In which the stream of humanity lost its way;
My nation is engaged in a nude dance
Having shed the clothes of civilization;
Passion rises in the blaring orchestra of ravenous desires,
While questions parade the highroads of life-
When will the sun rise again
On this terrible scene of debris
With emerald gifts to distribute
to the colonies of nude trees?
O friend, lift the glass
Why spread the tear like a sea on the evening?
Take a sip of hope and look for the rising sun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem