My breathing is a heavy monotony in my shrivelled age.
And dreams are still fluttering in my thoughts stage.
Though I shoulder a path in hardship in relentless quest,
Mired in failure, as the harder begets the hardest.
O. Merciless wilful wolf of intangible black time,
Years of women and men sail in the lake of your crime,
In silence voyage to their graves in cold earth,
All of them are dreams remains since my birth;
Fetched to me whining and weeping whenever I see my face.
O. Shapeless wolf whose plot is blooming in time and space,
In my universe and in those I hear murmuring a refrain,
Again and again absorbing my fears, then participate in my pain.
O. that wolf; I breathe in darkness and daylight the same,
You are unknown obscure poised evil and me a soul by name;
I, with pure innocent love of life, translate your game,
Which amuses your ambition and accumulates your rage.