Tonight, what becomes of me from this wine of sleep?
A crimson sunset trembled at the sea's edge,
Into the cup of my eyes, a bitter night dripped and slept.

The horses of the clouds galloped loose in the air,
The white chariots of wind departed with the day.

A lone shadow in the wandering darkness of dusk,
Withered on the horizon
And the sea still roars from its nest.

(by Siavash Kasraei)