More than a year
More than a year
Has passed:
And I had then fore hoped
The birth of my small child:
Vain hope! Time passed-she went
And came not
With her
Our small child dissolved.
But now
But now
My black queen of the south
The waning embers re-kindled has
I will not let Time pass
I must not let Time pass
To make my young small child.
The sands still fall through my empty hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem