Life was not all ashes, yet it was squandered spreading ash.
How could I have described the hardships I suffered trying to et to you?
The day passed away in the wake of someone's reminiscence,
Evening arrived, and passed away showing just a dream, hope, longing.
The passing years kept longing for better times,
The time was such that I passed away bearing with your whims.
The life which has the joy of having you predestined.
He knows how to fulfil promises, so I held on to him,
Over there, life is , but another name for inebriation.
And I walked a long distance to there with an expectation.
(how foolish was I?)
The night arrived amidst the whispering of solitude,
It was a desert plain but I crossed it chattering.
Overthere, life is, but another name for inebriation.
The spaces of my heart often get startled ,
Whose voice was it?