In an isle where dreams are taking me for a ride,
Likes and desires become an affliction in life.
I can’t decipher what I see in my solitary internment;
If they are truths or illusion, I just can’t make out.
Who can tell me the precise answer to those visions?
Truths or illusion, realistic or deceitful!
I was offering garlands of love in my worship
Of that idol, all throughout my life,
Since we met and became one.
A mind coveting for the spring season
In love, turned into a barren wasteland.
The conscience of every man is one
Wild jungle, where pure blossoms
Of love sincere, refuse to bloom.
Indeed a wild desolate and cruel jungle
Is the mind of a man, without remorse!
Insincere, crafty, egotistic, unfaithful;
Ever ready to swerve like a snake in flight.
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