I will never talk about her again
She's gone with the wings of time
The spectrum is with the guards
Left the feathers of loneliness.

Enthusiasm is missing now
         in the subdued air
I only see the scars of sadness in the aureate moonlit.
On the crest of Zarul tree at midnight
  cries the feeble wind
The poetic cosmos waits to take birth from womb of a girl
  I won’t talk about her to the shore
I am immersed in the secret talks of subjugation
Swallowing the filth of loneliness today
I will leave behind witnesses of boundless solitude
Yet I will never talk about her.