One couldn’t think straight
The hour hand struck mid-eleven
Lying down on bed
Thinking how the day was even
Heavy, teary eyes at night
And one’s drained energy
One forgets the alphabet
But only remembers Z
Clock strikes to twelve
One’s eyes start to close
Dreams start to conquer one’s thoughts
And one begins to doze
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem