She-jackal cries
At the rising sun
And vomits fire.
Dog barks fearlessly,
The horse appears to weep.
The pigeon is flying
Like the messenger of death.
The smoke encircles the sky,
The earth and the mountains
Are throbbing.
The wind blows violently,
blasting dust everywhere
And creating darkness.
Clouds are raining
With bloody disasters.
The rays of the sun
Are declining.
The stars appear to be
Fighting among themselves.
Rivers, tributaries, ponds
All perturbed.
Butter no longer ignites the fire.
The calves do not suck
The teats of the cows,
Nor do the cows give milk.
All are crying, lamenting
And perspiring.
All are devoid of beauty
And bereft of all happiness.
No good fortune and
Greater loss is going on there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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At the rising sun! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.