No peace
No quiet
To contemplate my shame
No hope in your religion
God is but a name
No space in this city
No friends to call your own
You, ve tillted swords at windmills
Now its time to go alone
No faith in your tommorrow
Yesterdays been and gone
Bring on lifes windmills
This Don Quixote rides alone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem