Walking depressed somewhere
In the grim of night
When the lights were gone
And the hopes were quiet.
With sensibility of mind
Taunting cold and numb
The feeling of creeping strength
Which was awfully dumb.
In the darkness so profound
And the stones thronging in the way
There was every chance to fear
For the goal was far far away.
Then coming through some wood ahead
A glowing candle with flickering wick
Showing me a path to follow
Even though the late fog was thick.
The shifting of the breeze
And the gleam of the golden azure haze
Tempting my buoyant nature
And calming me for the waiting bright days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem