Listen near and listen clear
Listen hear my little deer
Though it seems you appear
Fond of life
Do not chase that gilded wind
That thing you breath
In days to come perhaps today
Perhaps tomorrow that gilded will
Will shift in will and willingly
Bring a torrent breeze of sorrow
i tell you this my little fawn
Not to bring you dreams of
Death
i only mean you to be
Stronger on the morrow
When new life comes and i am gone
And just as sure as death
Is sure to follow
This is why
Life comes and goes
Death lusts and imitates
Death will come and go
But in the end
Death is Death and
Life is Life
Do not be tricked
They seem to mix
But this is only gilded wind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem