When the wind
Sings a lonely song,
There is tear-mist
In the air.
The cold autumn
Is exhausting,
The fallen leaves sigh
In the windswept park.
I drink wine
Before going to sleep;
But even in dreams,
I have forgotten how to smile.
When I enter the grave,
Will anyone recall
Walking with me
In a garden of flowers?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Uriah, here I have found a beautiful write 'to me' of solace. I am fortunate to know that all the graveyards I have seen always birth a multiplication of self-seeding flowers.... I trust that walking down any garden path is never lonely of remembrance or company..