Like lilies on a grave, a dream in tears,
canary songs for weddings or for wakes;
dull waters fill the swamps and swamp the lakes,
if hope shall die, then gone be all my fears.
But with a breath, or with a blink perhaps,
life makes me quiver, seizes me anew –
and all its mayhem marches into view;
while peace has fled, eluding all my traps.
For though I yearn for quiet and reserve,
tumultuous, the craze of life survives;
death looks forlorn, a little worse for wear.
I trudge through daily haze and nightly verve
and wait for life, who mindlessly arrives
to push me for another day, a year.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another very well-composed poem of yours, this time a sonnet with ABBA rhyme scheme. Great!
:) Thanks Mihaela!