Here every sound seems dead
As wood in the evening beam
Ready for sacrifice to the roaring flame
Only waves of hovering fears could wash-off
The thin pillars of my fragile heart
Not even the smiling day could cure this mute
In the nucleus of a lifeless landscape
At the expense of my degree,
Here nothing works
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a lot of diamonds here..lots of them