how i wish upon a star
til evening turns to early dawn
how i wish and wonder why
these poems of death
are all I write
of gloom and doom
and mortorous tomb,
of crpts and bone
and marble stone,
how i wish upon a star
for pillowed dreams that come from God
but all I have and all I'l find'
are words of death
and poems that die
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem