My heart is sinking
Before the hustling crowd
Whose words are heavy
As their sights are loud.
My heart is pining
For a future lost
So long in the past
By the road not crossed.
My heart is waning
Like a hearth at night
Whose fire is tending
To its ashes white.
My heart is aching
For her redeeming love;
No mortal hope is mine
But for a glance above.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem