Monday, September 1, 2008
I bid you good morning, my afflictions!
I congratulate you, Time!
I have conquered my territories
I have honoured my conscience.
You are born as a son to the ocean
You, the clouds hovering with black
Wings above, on the firmaments,
Being a celestial messenger, carrying
Errands for the desolate hearts,
And wandering across the blue oceans
And green shades, pouring out your charms,
Sharing your coolness, and warmth.
You left your parents when you were born
And started crying in helplessness,
Missing them for ever; an orphan...
There is no place for you to return or go back;
You have no space to stand alone also.
Who knows the beginning and the end
And what can be gained of earthly relationship
We get tired and weary when forlorn,
We are the toys of the destiny that shapes our ends.
Let me vanquish in the battles of the mind, or you
Give me the potion to forget, everything of life.