There is a little something
On the periphery
That ruins everything
Or so it seems to me
There is a little nothing
Round the corner way
Just a hint of shadow
Each and every day
There is a fleeting sadness
Slightly out of sight
That always lingers
From the first delight
There is a dying moment
Distant everywhere
But coming ever closer
Whether here or there
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem