The eyes are bloodshot, but not crying.
In the name of pain I cover up my face,
don't want to see this world.
With my head bent in bright night
I perceive the cool moonlight.
The ash of burial bonfire
spread with jerks of the wind
veils the horizon by an impenetrable
mystery of eternity.
A pestilent circle
absorbs the present.
No bottom abyss of suffering
is lost in the smoke
and raises a dreadful horror
of absolute powerlessness.
Sentenced to slow dying
I cross the river of death.
Dead breeze of heavy expiration
accompanies my last moments of life.
My eyes are covered with the fog
like never-ending horizon
and lifelessly look at clouds of forgetfulness.
The ash of burial bonfire
spread with jerks of the wind
veils the horizon by an impenetrable
mystery of eternity.
