The night is waning, consuming itself,
All residents of the world,
Are latent, resting their heads
Upon the arms but here far away from her
I weep holding the hem of her recollections.
She might be sleeping unruffled,
Dishevelling hair upon her shoulders
Placing her head upon the beloved chest,
And snuggling in the blanket of someone.
Then why should I blubber sobbingly,
And languish and pine away for nothing.
Such such hammering thoughts........... yes it is east brother magic
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its alright man, take it easy, if she has a good sleep.10