Poppies with their flowers of bloody hue,
Ancient roses, red and fragrant, laced with sparkling dew,
Lilies, tall and stately, with their funeral pall,
Daffodils, so bright and gay and violets with their vibrant blue,
bring no joy or peace to me at all,
When I am all alone.
Solitary walks on sombre, early summer mornings,
My steady footfall scarce disturbing silent empty streets,
Busy breath and beating heart, resounding in my ears,
Temples pounding as I taste
The salty tang of my own tears,
When I am all alone.
The ticking of the clock as shadows slowly creep across the room.
The long and dreary days of solitude and memories of days long gone,
This empty house, this silent mausoleum, this pit of bitterness, I call my home,
Reflects my emptiness and my regret,
When I am all alone
The Setting sun, The moon comes early, tinged with fiery red,
As if to say the sorrows of the day are done, and now it's time for bed,
But though the troubles of the day are fading with the dying sun,
there is no sleep for me, no rest, no peace,
When I am all alone.
But then one blessed day you sent an Angel to walk by my side,
To be my friend, my comfort, and my guide,
And though I'll always have a place of sorrow in my heart,
My joy, My peace, returns when they are by my side,
And I shall make another start,
Now I am not alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem