Farther you may go, farther
still in the charming light far
to blush in different spring at his door
when your golden arms
put away all my gleaned roses
I'll rise and never die-
wind's strumming here:
I'm a blind reveller at life's feast
under happy moon of quest-
yet I have no stop,
never did I ever love to stop-
something leads me go,
piping's heard full tonight-
farther you may go
but leave these ruined petals
squandering on the way-
I'll smell their dying scent
and go for picking my dirge
till I end my breath loving you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem