The nights are dark and cold,
The fire that keeps me warm,
It has run out of fuel
And now does not burn.
During the coming nights
Tell me where I should be?
My lonelihood fires my fears,
It makes me forget my tears
With all old faggots burnt,
Their ashes grey and white
There is nothing new to hide
Not even the embers asleep.
I do not wish to wait
For the sun to rise again,
Its light is creeping in
A new day has just begun
Will cause me pain and grief
I will pray my life is brief.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem