Evening smile must be worn,
Tonight's dinner is served
With the drumming of their guns.
Battalion of thirsty soldiers are on the verge
To spill their milk in the pot of a broken woman.
But the night will never stay,
Soon the echoes of their drumming
Will dissolve into the air.
And day shall bring to light their whispers,
Their mocking and scornful looks shall echo my names;
Shameless, adulterous and ungodly.

I wish they encounter the wind that drifted me
Away from the light of my early days.
This hotel was once a temple
Nurtured within the breaths of my parents,
Not long before they left in their sleep.
The infinity of their absence clung to my shoulder
Till I came to the edge of my cry,
And there was no one to bring me an handkerchief,
So I traded my pride and I died to live again.