Motionless freedom submerged,
Corpses of hunger scattered.
We don’t have navigator,
Eagerly waiting for the moment to take a ride through the way of despair and mourning.

Though we need those bygone days,
Though we want to feel the first rays,
With the age, we succumb to changes.
Our longings linger in the cells, in the hearts, in the lips.

Seize those vision, the darkness, the light;
Yet, they are fragile.
Ah! People – benign, beautiful murderer
No condolence, please.