And there are the sunset-men, there are the sunrise-men,
One of them - negative, others are 'cool', to say;
Those, who're 'cool' - are frequently smiling,
Those sunset ones - usually're without luck.
On dealing with one men, you feel only cold,
With others - even seventy - you're young without doubt.
From one men - you revive shine as if from the sun,
With others - all day there is dark without light.
But if you give warmth to the 'cool'-men one day,
Which was lost somewhere and lost for regret,
And don't compel them for deep melancholy,
They'll also wish to give warmth and get warming.
Because 'cool'-men as 'rise'-men, all were in trying
To have their own ticket to quite happy life-span.
So they were in anger, so they bite the others,
Because of the fear of the unselfish loving.
And 'rise'-men turn also to be as all 'cool'-men,
As thunderstorm clouds, going over the sea-plain;
When gratitude dies in the soul, and there
Sunrise is transforming to be sunset ever.
I'm also sometimes look like as 'acock',
But know - all troubles go out with dawn.
So let someone tell: 'She is cool', let they say...
There are the people-sunrise and the people-sunset.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem