EVERY DAY BRINGS ITS OWN NEW SADNESS
Every day brings its own new sadness-
After a certain age
Aches and pains and sorrows
Are daily bread-
So many friends sick -
So much older all the world-
Time is running out
For me also -
And I dither and smither and flither and plither
My time away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem