Sitting in the room of shadows wondering if the beauty laden
Laden by the lonesome darkness guided by the night’s amour.
Love it fills the night of question; about the doubtless future succession
For the morning’s eve progression, progression towards the closing door
Hushing whispers of choice uniting, in the movement of the maiden
Oh the maiden lonely sitting upon the venerable door.
Sodden by the rains aggression; the wan face sits with no expression;
To avoid the precarious transgression, transgression of the note in his drawer.
Cannular heart pulses in a manner; that it burdens the day with thoughts of Aiden.
Aiden, sweet Aiden smoldering the sun, that has shaken her core,
The man who consumes her mind’s obsession, what an agitated depression.
Depression that was once progression, progression towards the closing door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem