When I finally opt out I’ll leave,
All living to myself that has once mattered
From this blue-blooded land of the stout
All accomplishments sweet that my sweat fathered
Will be left behind
For it has been a sweet and bitter bite off life’s cake
That will decay with time after when am gone,
And never to be found,
For It has been way too easy toiling to live,
And the fame in the game too fake,
For a base-born that I am
With grim I have searched,
From all the fine and fair I have seen,
Hand in hand on this rare planet, they’ve stretched
Through memories in a line though faint,
Her name buried deep in my heart,
And on my heart I etched,
Her face on mine I’ve painted
Not with paint and a chisel,
But with words and a quill,
A beaut, a literary blinder
That will make the stars cringe
And the morning sun, grin happily,
When my days finally come to an end
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nicely written piece, Mang'eni. Thanks
You're welcome, Kelly