Neither those wine-cups nor those enraptured souls remain, nor do the devotees faithful to the primordial covenant survive; neither does that worldly way of living endure, nor do those pursuits that once gave glory to faith remain.

Here, the poet looks back with tender sorrow at a lost golden age of spiritual passion and moral grandeur. Through evocative images of overflowing cups and ecstatic seekers, he mourns the disappearance of those sincere souls who lived in true fidelity to the primordial covenant with the Divine. It is a heartfelt lament for an era where everyday life and faith were infused with genuine devotion, grace, and meaningful purpose.