To ride the biggest
of all, to live
like the days will
stop to come
A coldness deep in
the soul, forbids
the touch of radiance
to all who take the fall
The sound of the tide
will bring it all home
even if there is no bed
to call your own
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Flat, hollow, and unendurable feeling of depression when the sun stops shinning for one, is insightfully portrayed in the poem. Depression is an ugly attack by one's own mind. A good piece indeed. Thanks for sharing Timmy.