Mritiqa

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‎Mritiqa, can you walk?

‎From one heart to another.

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‎Can you arrange emotions?

‎in the heart of a boring world.

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‎Can you paint with the colors of the sun?

‎The hungry stomach of the sea that has been thrown up.

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‎Can you  play the flute of Hamilto?

‎In the cursed city gathered on the forehead.

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‎Can you make a walking path?

‎In the unnecessary glands.

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‎Can you read?

‎The silent call.

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‎Can you absorb?

‎The red tears that tore my heaven.

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‎Can you make me

‎a dreamy musical piece

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‎Come and slowly touch

‎My final twilight.

‎Look at this vast sea of people

‎Silent in the half-darkness and the crushing darkness.

‎The fields, the mountains, the valleys, the springs are oppressed

‎Dead winter, dead spring.

‎The dead emotions of living people walk around

‎On the path flowing past the grave.

‎Candles do not illuminate the grave of the heart

‎Immortal death on the edge of the sleepless night

‎I return to you in deep sorrow

‎Leaving my hometown to the forest.

‎All pain fades away in an instant

‎In the cage of your innocent chest.

‎I like to do in search of you

‎In the form of the wind.

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‎Embrace me once in both arms

‎The beginning of a bright new day

‎Cast anchor in the song of the primeval night

‎Where civilization sprouts from seeds

‎My fire pit – eager for freedom

‎In the united march of free living