the September sun,
and the September rainy weather.
then again morning fogs,
the nonsensical passage of time.
drooping flowers,
and my longing.
time of the mushroom picking,
trips to forest.
I am leaving sadness,
behind the iron gate.
alone I am going,
on the road of nobody.
and now I can se,
myself in thoughts.
and I know how the life,
costs a lot of money today.
too expensively probably,
in these all years.
but still to struggle,
with the life it is necessary.
before I will find,
the stop to the sky.
because everyone is heading,
in the same direction.
and the crowd was formed,
on the blue road.
but I am not,
fatigued sorely...
I am leaving sadness, behind the iron gate. alone I am going, on the road of nobody. This is a perfect and beautiful stanza.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you very much. It is a real. :)