Brief and dreamy
This life and this play,
I must say and further
To add is clay.
I want not to discuss
The feet of clay,
But I must say
I myself is strayed.
But where is my way, wait
I am searching from yesterday,
With a thread of grey
You are to admit me
At the end of the day
Within this day, today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem