You are my dream!
I know dreams often
Turn into agony;
The warmth of smouldering desires
When skies begin to change,
New shawls of the seasons,
The people dress themselves
In new costumes,
A swarm of the birds came down,
Passed by caressing water.
O age of the caravans!
The words and paths accompanied me.
The words and insomnia were my companions.
In the dusty mirrors of centuries,
Who are these murky shadowed people?
Someone should resolve,
To me what the reality of Time is,
In the dale of death,
I have taken the risk of favouring life,
I have been entrusted an obligation
I have been deployed
To attend upon the three of life,
In the prolific branches
Of which are perching
From behind the worn-out grave of Time,
Sends me a message;
I am a thick shady tree of creation,
The sky of my own share
Has wreathed Himself
With the cover of monotony;
And my eyes,
How long my dear people,
How long we shall sprinkle essence of rose,
And smoulder fragrant contents.
How long we shall burn grates of hatred,