You are lonely,
You swoon in melancholy;
The bustle outside does not concern you,
It is for the happy ones.
You are thinking of the hollow
In your breast;
Love is lost and far away,
Twilight every moment;
Aurora is gone;
She cares less for your mood;
But even the day she returns
What can you do?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
With all due respect, Samuel, I'd rather read one poem of yours carefully every day - like a new sunrise - than read ten quickly in case I miss something...