It is there always;
It tortures me,
It causes me anguish.
It is a thorn.
I always long for ecstacy,
For a good life and happiness.
But as usual, agony comes my way,
And it criples my heart.
For my tears and heart ache,
it is responsible.
For my trials and tribulations,
It is responsible.
It is a burden,
My heart keeps aching.
For the teardrops on my pillow,
It is to blame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem