Last Night, Crushing out the waste
With over trembling hands
I sat to write a letter
Aye, A letter to yesterday
Reckoned or unreckoned to a
Yesterday, excepted its seclusion.
And thus I began The letter,
Aye a letter to yesterday!
'Dear yesterday' and thus I
addressed the past with resignation.
And I wrote as forth..
Why were you so unfair...
Why did you make a pandemonium?
Was it all a play for you?
Why didn't you stop when I let him go?
Oh, he owns my heart! He owns my soul...
Oh, he owns my heart! He owns my soul...
Life wasn't fair, so wasn't you.....
You say if all flowers were roses
Then what beauty in a garden...
But oh yesterday you dint even let me be a weed!
Last Night, Crushing out the waste
With over trembling hands
I sat to write a letter
Aye, A letter to yesterday
Reckoned or unreckoned to a
Yesterday, excepted its seclusion.
And thus I began The letter,
Aye a letter to yesterday!
'Dear yesterday' and thus I
addressed the past with resignation.
And I wrote as forth..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem