My setting sun is sinking slow
I have questions, on how to go
No book I have read
gave advice on what you said
Do I just pick the rose,
kick the can, with my toes
Let me see the light
in this darkness of night
shall I go or shall I stay
or save it for another day
does death look better in the day
covered up in darkness's play
O death where is thy sting
does love take to wing
this day I go forth to the well
the end of this internal hell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem