The light, where has it gone? It is so dark
The day has turned to night, there is no light
I hear no singing birds, no singing lark
Perhaps they, like the light, have taken flight
Would I had wings so I could escape too
For it is dreary here, it is so dim
And I am envious of those who flew
To brighter climes on more than just a whim
Obeying their instincts they had no choice
But we're not birds for we have will, the will
To choose, and if at times the human voice
Does sound in manner harsh and even shrill
At others it transcends even the birds'
In lucent beauty, if we choose our words
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem