In this little room of fate and grail.
We sat on wooden floor of din;
That we are kings or prince
Chuckling on the phillistines' dream.
And deck of cards are shuffling,
On the yellowish mattress tainted
over the years.
Are witnesses of the whims
Of two minds playing.
Till the sunshine beams in the
early morning.
We are still in the same room waiting.
For the dawn, shine and stunning glow.
Will break the day monotone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem