I wrote a poem against the sadness of the night-
The night did not surrender easily-
Time has its ways of working on all of us-
I have seen many die too many die-
And as I grow older and more contemporaries leave this earth
I know my grave is too coming soon -
The sadness of the night
And the sadness of when there will be no night
And the sadness of life
And those left behind in it -
One can visit a thousand graves
But each new one startles and saddens and frightens
Why oh why God does it all end in dying this way?
YOU write the poem against the sadness of the night
I cannot write it
I can only read what life gives
And that is sad enough Sad too much.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem