Farewell, evening! You are no more just, For you devour the souls of brides! Bless you, muddled, lack-lustre twilight! Is your love too heartless like mine? The evening that once sighed with unease, Now comes with growing hatred causing pain. There goes my love and in strides the evening, Like slayers at the slaughter What good did I do to dawn? And what harm to evening? When my love was with me, I did not know How cruel evening could be. Budding at dawn and growing all day, This disease blooms by evening. The cowboy’s flutes now sound as envoys of death Forecasting the fiery evening. This place will all be dizzy and grieved When the evening spreads and smothers me. Longing for him who left longing for wealth, The evenings take toll of my undying soul.