The door of time is locked from inside

O autumn leaves, become my bride

I am little injured while sailing this boat

My soul is bent

And heart is broken

I happened here to sing some songs

I am not sure how much I played this dong

This life is a release from the perspective of the breeze

But from the views of a desiccated desert,

do I really find my heart?

O ocean, what is your notion about life and liberation?

Here under the shadow of this great meadow,

I have a little existence

But with the force of the western air, I lost all my streams and their definitions

When I climb the top of my poetic hills, I get some type of emancipation

But when I come at the bottom of the valleys I see a lot erosions

Where is then my salvation?

Here is now the full season of infections

For moral decline and decrease, it is a good time to shine

For soul-searching, this period is an odd vine

O ocean, what is your notion about this corrosion?

My woe whispers -this is great decay and deterioration

Among all these contaminations, some are my relatives

Others I know from the streets

They all are swamp people and swim in the shallow river

My body has become a dirty city

after falling into this muddy water

O ocean, what is your notion about this great deterioration?

-Somoy Shafi