i speak
to you my
morning
i am unloading
what the
night
has given me
all the darkness
all the silence
all that makes
the damn damned
morning
you are not my
enemy
i shall come to
you with
flowers in my hand
i shall confide
to you
what the house
upon a lonely
rock
has not forgotten
listen to my
woes
of the night's
storms
morning friend
you must
understand
tell me then
what days
are storing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem