my hands are empty i sigh
so as my heart i will die
staring at clouds no help
overcast has taken all
i sit on greenish of grass
thinking how happy it was
my stories fading colors
pass by eyes and ardors
fleeting wind by my feet
butterfly's swift wings i felt
touch my chest hasten breath
am like flower about to wilt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem