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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