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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