Rising in the east
It slowly shows its grace
At first a pleasant glow
Ever growing to a fierce face.
A lingering flame
so distant into the sky
Such is its presence
People come from far and wide
Hitting its peak
Around about noon
Lingering for a second
Creating a swoon
Its all too much
for this great thing up high
The beautiful thing that was
Begins to die
To the west it falls
where darkness is found
Away goes the glow
To where it can’t come around
Stuck in the west
From where this treasure cant return
The dream is not lost
Even after such a heavy burn
On the horizon
In the east again
A flicker can be seen
a beauty without pain.
As comes the new day,
so does a new sun.
As does a new beginning,
without someone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem