By accepting every word of yours in love, I sit in the market of hearts, incurring loss. I threw towards the skies, Turning clay lamps into stars. I saw a spark in the town, It moved away, signaling to the storm. I am that river for which every drop is a whirlpool, You did well by distancing yourself from me. Various colors come and go on my face, People enjoy mentioning you. I wait for the stars to wink, I'll call the moon to the roof, signaling.