And it was twilight then
And it was noon
Within each maze of my hearts’ den
The game was all on tune
The river banks overflowed
The moonlit sky above
Smeared all in vanity glowed
But never spoke of love
And what else could it at all do
Whose eyes never spark
Guarded in sheath all anew
Came bouncers of the dark
And what’s the use of calling her
Now, at this odd noon
As within the mazes of my twisted heart
The game has lost its tunes…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem