Fall, as I begin to pray
It was hard until yesterday,
I feared what tomorrow,
might perhaps be.
Could be full of regrets,
or joyful as I see.
As I set for the great lark,
away I march from the dark.
Everything soon despairs
separates within layers.
Resting on the mud I lay,
it changes the whole, but today…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem