The sun's firey they say
The moon without its own light
Some creatures shy from the brightness of day
& find refuge under the blanket of the night
aside the beauty covering a bloomingdale
A loving heart'll still seek where to knit
By day you had tanned my skin
& at night, covered my weakness
Now you turn your feet to abscond
Where my heart'll not find space
Don't bid me farewell as you make to leave
It'll be engraved, an eternal torment
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem