To toast this age, One evening I lifted my glass and saw in the wine, Shadows of falling leaves Hopes fading every minute, as stars by dawn-
This age has filled the living breath with sighs; World, a hemlock thrust into our hands, Where sun wastes his light On the sand dunes of this land-
A desert this In which the stream of humanity lost its way; My nation is engaged in a nude dance Having shed the clothes of civilisation; Passion rises in the blaring orchestra Of ravenous desires, While questions parade the highroads of life-
When will the sun rise again On the terrible scene of debris With emerald gifts to distribute To the colonies of nude trees?
O friend lift the glass Why spread the tear like a sea on the evening? Take a sip of hope and look for the rising sun.
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