Tonight we sat,
While memories
Were plucked
With guitar strings.
Familiar words and tunes
Tumbled down the grooves
That yesterday had worn
In our recollections.
Where are the crowds,
The laurels strewn
In our paths
Of lasting glory?
Fame never found us.
So suffice
With childish applause
We made our bows
And said goodnight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem