Alone in the winter
I walk,
Through the gates of misery
I enter
behind these gates,
There is a sunless sea,
And no happy living thing to be,
Behind these gates,
Exist no sun nor moon,
Only your sadness mingled with your gloom,
Behind these gates,
Only broken hearts can remain,
but nothing shall ever
Entertain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem