I was grew from the darkest hour
Counted by tored hands of one man,
Delivered the most beautiful musical
World was perfered the world of tears,
I was committed by the tragic failures
Of my golden past.
Divorced the powerness of my youngest days
Fired for the death soul, drank a well
Known liquid water, it was uncommon to me.
You had known me from the side of you
And also from me.
I am not growing one to congratulate
I dreamt about my gloomy pictures of
I must be great among greaters,
You grew because I was failing
I am not the verse of poetry nor also
The page of prose.
You congratulate because i am the
Subject of poem,
The creator of darkest hour.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem