Self-conceit

I still don't understand how much the poison goes out

When Tushan was burnt, Hemlock found the nectar batika

Asardha goes to Shravan, water rises after breaking

I didn't understand how much I forgot to stagger alone in the turbulent current

You're just that, impassive. I am alone, from the body of the moon

Pure stigma - he hides himself in the shadows

Is it possible to hide like this? Who has ever seen his face on a stone mirror?

All I know is that I have attained Bodhi, an incurable acute illness

The more blue the poison, the more its alcoholism increases

The darker the grief, the more the grief is frozen in the mountains

Dwelling of strange happiness. You know, happiness means sickness and nickname

Whether I understand it or not, I picked myself up at this market

I know you will never take off your black sunglasses

I will never get rid of the chubby mouth - this delusion of mine too

Repeatedly, the sun will throw away the particles of neglect

I will be burnt by the heat, I will play the torn sarod alone - tired sarod

Remember that one day the wave of pride and beauty will fall

The suicidal crowd of Mohakul insects will move away. Someone will know that day too

All right. All surrender to you

By doing, alone with all his- desolate Fagun month. Desolate hearing