THE DESPAIR OF ‘NOTHING TO DO’
The despair of ‘nothing to do’
Eats at the soul
Once busyness was the rhythm of life
And no time enough time
Now days and nights
Are blanks of horror
How will the time be passed?
What is there to do?
The end has come before the end has come
And in this fear and anxiety
Rule the world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem