1. O night, what has the dawn done?
Has its ambiguous one gained any clarity?

2. My night, a raven has fallen
In the east, wingless,

3. The stars complained, saying -
"We have no comfort in these cycles."

4. The darkness fell ill
And its bright eyes cried out,

5. The white full moons still shine
While the black crescent fades,

6. Until I say "Maybe this shameless time
Will strip away its old age."

7. It's as if tomorrow
It will shed its shrouds into the salty air.