Wandering into the night letting self get lost in the misty
evening haze, sounding the trumpet of bereavement as I walk
forward onto a distant effervescence of last year's times.
Socializing throughout the atmosphere, never caring what is
happening all around me late in the night, crawling along
ledges, holding on tightly so as not to fall into the depths
of another tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem