Moved by the wind the husband
stands there as a rest
his heart melts, is soon blown away
lies down at her feet,
the great mullein woman,
of the woman whom he had sometimes
still he has survived, even if also he passes
to wilted foliage, once adornment of a garden,
a king under candles
wilts and soon disintegrate to dust
thus is, completely if I may say, the run of the life
even for the king: Foliage,
at the end everything becomes only what it was
sometimes
passes to real star dust
the candle has burned,
the king leaves the land
and everything what he had sometimes.
All rights reserved
@ Floy Dy Ra,11/11/14
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem