Is it life,
Is it life,
On the singing branch that I see,
To have heard, when I pass,
Look at and see that I myself
Having no true mate singing,
That I may be one half of family;
Let it be gone,
I lie,
I lie
That I cry
I lie,
I lie;
Its doubt
Like, as if, when I pass through
The days, the nights,
I'm to be painful;
Save I myself
To have, to have, a control
Feeling that I stand
But, nay, had I all but
But, to sighs
I go, approach.
04/10/2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem