Cold sky drives me out
I decadently trample the withered leaves
And say to the bare trees:
My days are meaningful
Empty park drives me out
I mock the dust-covered benches
and the curvy trails lying in despair
and say to the flowers in their last breath:
My days are meaningful
A man who measures the time with his feet
Stomps my extending shadow and passes me by
With my bleeding heart
I try to transcend the sun and say:
My days are meaningful
Yet the trees keep standing tall with strange hope
The flowers keep swinging in meaningless manner
The sun keeps wandering with boring constant
And I feel like going up to the highest peek
Just to let myself fall from it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem