Gloom, grief, Monday, melancholia, jazz
Suffering, black, frowns is what I'd regard you as
You linger long and perish so
You wither down and ache slow
You live in blood
You reek of gray
Curtained sun, crippled fawn
I see in you dawn
I ask you everyday
As soon as I wake
In company to your morning jazz
Are you on the wrong side of the grass?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem