Wandering through wastelands in the pouring rain
Coming across an old whishing-well
Making wishes and posing a question
All in vain
It was a wicked day I can tell
I have to find my own answers
Even in pain
That well was no longer in fashion
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If only wishing wells did exist, with a swirl of magic to kiss our days. How true you are that we keep to old fashions and practices. Thanks for sharing! ! !