The daisies of my youth have died
as one by one its petals dried
green fields of summer but a dream
harsh winter looms 'neath autumn's gleem
The roses on my gown are black
a midnight velvet cape on back
abandoned lips once tasted wine
of other places, other times
a pungent liquid drink is sent
its heady liquor to torment
Who can be spared those ancient rhymes
no cave so deep no gorge so steep
where human hearts can hide and sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Verily, the old age and memories of past become one...10