Are poets happy?
Or do they cultivate,
An eternal melancholic flower,
That takes away the power,
To find happiness to share?
Always thinking, always thinking,
That better Worlds exist,
In some fairyland, Somewhere...
You have wrought truth and beauty into one poem - and your question is an eternal one. Chapeau, madam!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That better Worlds exist, In some fairyland, Somewhere amen.