1. God's peace, I have ancient tears
I scatter on the leaves of discord

2. And I have days with the taste of death in them
And I have poems, the gardens of rebels

3. I topple every kingdom and government
And spread my sorrow through the mouths of narrators

4. I wander on some clouds of my suspicion
And give poetry a text from my life

5. Like many suspicions that poetry is useful
If some rebels are characterized by it

6. And all poetry is connected with anxiety
Some poetry is tied to the future

7. I see it today in stray words
Of weak growth and bent qualities

8. On a letter of days inadvertently
One sells the dreams of writers!

9. When one thinks of a gift
He tastes humiliation from crumbs

10. These are the days that reject all affection
It is the thorns planted in the canal

11. We ward off death from ancient tears
Perhaps tears are abundant grants

12. God's peace, O recovering homeland
The blood of days is the kiss of tyrants!

13. We have dreams if pure veins
Its pulse mingles with the night of demise

14. Over dreams a tyrannical bird
That legalizes our dream under rulers

15. The dream refused a spacious expansion
And the dream is the door of miracles

16. I see the dream has an enlightened origin
That completes its form from rays

17. It seduces its doubt in every eye
As if doubt is the spoken languages

18. So we will return to utter two sighs
The taste of life is like death to us

19. We prove that if death struck us with an arrow
We will be reborn from the remains

20. I will sip two sips: blood and wine
If yearning is suppressed from life