My poems forgotten, long since told
Memory misting I grow old
Passionate words never stopped flow
Melted like sun kissed snow.
This an affliction recently acquired
I am growing tired
Some words true some of them tall
Time obstructs recall.
My poems echoes long ceased to be
Please remember me
Buried deeply in many ancient minds
My words of many kinds.
Beautiful lyrics that my heart chose
Lost now, I suppose
Do you recall, do they ring a bell
Time will tell
If one day my disposed verse appear
I'll shed first tear
I'm an old poet my pen didn't sleep
Finders keep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is sad, but on a happier note - just think of all the books upon books of poetry the speaker must be leaving behind!