the day is over
we clap our hands
in the dark we remember
those deeds of the night
dusk comes with a surprise
on to what is next
the sun rises again
we clap our hands again
hoping that this brand new day
shall give us progress and even eternity
oh, the cycle is here again
another man of the sun loses face to the moon
in the dark we seek shelter to the night
we sleep and dream
tomorrow as the sun rises
we shall have learned: this is nothing but a vicious cycle
we then go to our own affairs
not minding whether it is morning or evening
the faces of the days
do not matter anymore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem