'Senseless to stretch one’s soul
and ask of Earth her heart,
as tortoise Time takes toll
lost lovers someday part.
Tomorrow's moon seems wane,
May’s sun may not shine clear:
how many Springs remain
our weary way to cheer? '
'How many earthly empires
the circling sun must set?
Friend, hast felt of love’s fires
immortal? smile, why fret?
Though now cowed sun shines bane,
in hungry hungdrawn year,
fresh life may, born again,
despite night, conquer fear.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem