Where is that hurt nightingale?
That brought me alive in life’s dale.
Tell me your saddest tale
and lessen your pain caused by a gale.
Your heartless kin have left you alone
to curse ill-fate and life to moan.
A little mercy none has shown
and your hope to refresh they have blown.
The flowers in thy lawn I make to bloom
and drive-out the mind-boggling gloom.
In thy charred heart leave me some room
To make it lusty and a post-doom boom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem