The night train melancholy beast:
The whistles like a blast,
shaking sleeping people awake,
letting pitch-darkness snake,
comes from a long distance,
dead away remaining a reminiscence.

Then people wanna love for other!
Hunger becomes a part of their loneliness:
The olds wail over in longing younger;
Their hearts are bursting with sad queer.
Frightening shout, browing at teddy,
Carnal desires rise from dry up body.

To scoop seething tears in both palms of hands,
Raise them in the calm as before of the night.
A pearl rolling down from finger slits of hand,
reflects red and small spots of the tail-light.
Ah! the night train melancholy beast;
The herald of love's tragedy, it is.