When the sun misses its way home
And the sky forbids it a dwelling
My heart like a tree that has fallen
My joy like a cloud is wandering
Alas! Angels look on my plight
Knowing i need their wings for a flight
To a very great height
Maybe beyond the star
To a secret place afar
Where life will be a bar
This is my last wife
The one who shredded my life
With bare but not a knife
My last wife drives me from home
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem