It fills my mind at evening time,
for I cannot forget
the foggy past where all is mute,
the mist of old regret.
The faces of the ones I loved
grow dim in memory.
We're made this way to punish loss,
or so it seems to me.
For every face there is a place,
where I did love or dance,
where meadows or forgotten woods
beguiled me with their trance.
And there was then a sleepy town,
with children quite secure.
And friends were treasures to protect,
beyond a dream's allure.
Now time has passed, the days are lost,
there are no remedies,
for dreams that haunt the midnight mind,
and faded memories.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There are no remedies for dreams that haunt the midnight mind...wonderfully put. This poem captures the transience of life beautifully. The whole of human existence is encompassed in this poem. A man lives on memories alone in the end.
Glad you like it. Thank you for the comment and the encouragement.