Of the Smiles and sin that have so often
been my only friend, the sad works of a
lonely old man. Dreaming of a boy that
once danced by the sea, full of life and
free as the warm ocean breeze, if only
his face could I see. Songs of a sad
lament, lazily wafting through the open
air café where he sits alone waiting for
something more, yet that is no more.
Never aware of the slow passage of time
as he slips into obscurity, pretending not
to see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem