As blue as the sky, so is the self-interest,
Built from one’s own illusion, the thirst of another.
Tinted with ethereal colors, it walks this path,
In the realm of self-interest, only one’s own abode.
On the path to the rich man’s happiness, there are only false songs,
The story of love, finds no place there.
In the embrace of lies, the innocent face of truth,
In the wavering of self-interest, the happiness of love.
In the crowd of success, the shameless hero,
Everyone walks his path, a conspiracy of mistakes.
Sorrows in the path of coming, familiar happiness in mind,
In the victory song of self-interest, the world becomes silent.
In my own life, I have always lost,
In the battle of self-interest, I have surpassed myself.
If this life is, a clamor of self-interest,
Then where does love, find its address?
Finally one day, I ask myself,
Is this life only, a path of self-interest?
If the song of shamelessness, is the mantra of success,
Then where will I find, the edge of humanity?
