Unlike The Passing Birds

On nights when rain falls with the blowing wind
I have no choice, but to endure the cold
I boast, "where is to be found a better man?"
But still, in the end, I remain cold

On the bare ground we lie on loose straw
A destitute family in pain
On whom stars don't cast their radiance
In times like these, how do we keep on?

Haze through the window, past the rain,
He lays a wretched comal shell
Far removed, his mind cast off
Toil beneath the external calm

Suffering, caught in portraits
Unlike the passing birds, who fly off

Haze through the window, past the rain,
He lays a wretched comal shell
Far removed, his mind cast off
Toil beneath the external calm