Time hast gone with it all jiffy marks of life.
A dead self of anabolism deceased and decayed reclaims not the warmth of living.
Fleeting mind, restless mind over the fretting
Sense of makeshift dream and stupefied.
I am dead in thought and humour, spongy fool of myself thinking posterior every time.
Life is a notion, baseless fancy and no lenity once it is lost.
Every nook of breath is pulverized with ebullient aura of ambition.
Emotive mortification saddened by life's heavy demand cremated my benign being.
Marvel of sunrise over purple, rubicund and ruminant cloud,
The dipping ofthe crystal eye in the slanting westteem no fruit.
Night as eyelash of my love and day as smile of her unoffending face are overcast.
Declension of bountiful creation, soft melting mist with absorbing bloom and tuneful heartsof Chanticleer silenced my beetle-browed mind.
A thoughtless thought, an unreal, phoney self,
Counterfeit of my past life, I am now a rigid pain.
Quietism without speculative allurement or supernal quietness do I pine for and death of this corporal frame.
Still I wish thee, and thyunvoiced Psalm of love for this dry soul,
Thy hearty empathy towards a spare, emaciated sterner sex doth revive gratefulness to life.
This grey hair droops to thy green, resilient feet
for the love thou set forth for me with owe and
Obeisance, suit to thee.
Still I wish thee, and thyunvoiced Psalm of love for this dry soul,
Time hast gone with it all jiffy marks of life. A dead self of anabolism deceased and decayed reclaims not the warmth of living. Fleeting mind, restless mind over the fretting Sense of makeshift dream and stupefied.
Still I wish thee, and thyunvoiced Psalm of love for this dry soul, Thy hearty empathy towards a spare, emaciated sterner doth revive gratefulness to life.
Time hast gone with it all jiffy marks of life. A dead self of anabolism deceased and decayed reclaims not the warmth of living. Fleeting mind, restless mind over the fretting Sense of makeshift dream and stupefied
This grey hair droops to thy green, resilient feet for the love thou set forth for me with owe and Obeisance, suit to thee.
Night as eyelash of my love and day as smile of her unoffending face are overcast. Declension of bountiful creation, soft melting mist with absorbing bloom and tuneful heartsof Chanticleer silenced my beetle-browed mind
I am dead in thought and humour, spongy fool of myself thinking posterior every time. Life is a notion, baseless fancy and no lenity once it is lost. Every nook of breath is pulverized with ebullient aura of ambition
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
without speculative allurement or .... do I pine for and death of this corporal frame......