look up my teary eyes, the ground
is almost full of the trail, dismay
hold on to stay
look up that empty well, surrounded with
fancy, its hook is ready call, come
little lady your attire is dusty
look up in many ways, the ring swing
like golden puppy, blind to see of
what is shiny; so tiny that nobody can
say
look up dear darling you might be
blind and my tender love will stop you
to play
look up tender groom dream boy,
paddle your own canoe,
and whisper the night of blooming light
of tomorrow's glow
feel the pain...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem