I took along the world
In seek of good poetry
Near i say close
I listened to music from the trees
But my ears grew stiff
I climbed the sunshine mountains
Hunting for fresh spring and
Yet i came across bitter baby ponds
Descending the mountains desponded
I moved on to the heart of the forest
Where leaves and branches mingle with rich soil
I was greeted by a pale field of drought
where else should i go?
The nature is waning away
where else should i run i have covered all
The nature is waning the nature is waning
The old known river
Had fallen scant, a home to hake
Was overflowing with dry pale pebbles
Remnants of decay and lose
Lying along the thirsty banks
The air was sick with carbon
Gaunt last haena wobbled
towards its lair catchless
The last hunter's face was thin as salt
His arrows were hanging on his scrawny shoulders
And due to overwhelming sorrow i coul'nt see further
Bowing to defeat, i went back home without a poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem