The clock strikes twelve And the downpour bursts When the long preserved faith Gets stained by rust The naked rays of moon Like the explosion of fireworks Mocks me for losing the senses Over the bridal image, my mind has accord The ring is in her hand And persistent to my eyes Deluge of tears follow In the labyrinth of romantic lies She, commanded by the priest Prepares for the sacred vow, And the hymns are chattered in her name Her bridal image has made me happy now My love, exchange your garland The pale breath, let on one feel Hold his hand- your bosom for life Satin vibes shall then initiate to dwell Applause, cheers, and many-a-more The greetings even rings as a knell But time slows when you're crimsoned Your bridal image is now a melancholy tale. The sacred verses has been spoken, Oh, Lord! Would I ever awaken? The hopes have turmoiled in the grave sands Like a coal, after the fire is banked. Nature is weaving bye, but I'm not gonna sleep How could I, when my sighs are stolen? And even she had uttered her last words, "See you in my dreams" But I find her bridal image now taken.