Enjoying life before it all away goes
On to the winter’s playing penumbra field
What was of proceeding is now like glows
One at a time falling in oldness yield
The day becomes dark like evening light
With all its memories broken treasures
This is the extend of each morning bright
Nothing to behold of its going pleasures
In living a dream that once was of spring
Every hour coming is now on so dear
Onto the echoes of old occasions sing
This of the times when winter is near
Love songs of gray and blossoms falling white
When dreams of their sharing becomes night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem