My melancholy stains the day
Litters these streets empty and hollow of sound
This heaviness weighs on as
City horses myopic and deaf
Plod through my dreams
Morning light is wrenched dearly from every drop of dew
Every kind word you loose holds a glimpse of sun light that I must drink
Lest I dry out and drift away on a fickle breeze
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem