Akbar Fida

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For all the truth, the lie remains.

Through the darkest days of the past,

In the far foreign land, where they all come,

And flourish the end, as the end was about to start.

All through the land of fire

The will of all hatred is called,

Called for the dreams it intended, the life,

And for the vastness realm gloat,

Filled with thought, pointing towards the end,

Towards the end of horizon,

Where it all stiffs, the vast sea that will glow.

Now, as they will fade,

As they all go,

The summer shall bloom again,

And there will yet again be snow.