Before nightfall, the cracks surrounded the wall of Chauchi

Evening descends on the Salil stream;

On the west verandah of the Atchala house

Rangata with a mobile phone in one hand in the chair

Leaving a soft grip on the half-fist

You are in the southern sky

After a while the evening light will be lit in the yard;

Maybe a little gray-yellow twilight or the evening sun

The sea surface is right on your forehead

It crashed there a while ago

A bunch of comet hairs, removed by the warm air;

I saw your face from hundreds of miles away

All day long, Chaitali was tired from the hot sun

The head rests on the grave in the evening

Girlfriend, witness this evening

I'm tired of your head in love

Understand that my fatigue will never end.

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