From the chilled and cold weather
I can figure out your image
That fades out in the fogs
I fear it will be soon lost
Till the next day is over
I remember those days
When you was not out of my reach
I forget the way
We bothered to get
Out of way
If hope survives somewhere
It will grow with the moon
If it never happens
The other day is to wait
Wither miserable eyes
The lasting flame
Flutters before
It is all a smoke
And dreams die
Out of bodies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem