Gray is vibrant, nagging us terribly,
For it is dark in its enticement,
It lures you deliberately, and dreams are on.
The chivalry is gray and defies immortality,
For he is concrete in his dress and garb,
Ever so clever with battle-axe and whispers.
Uncomfortably, he speaks unholily,
For a knight this is deranged and psychotic,
Sucking the sleep of years.
Gray is the sleep adjusted to the days and nights of our lives.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem