I am living with dying moment
No lights, no happiness in current.
My heart is weeping burst
Though my eyes are straight and dry
How I can bear this pain salient.
My canvas, uncompleted sketch is there
A little green, big part is dark, bare
But have not more story or any paint.
I try to write my love story on beech
But forget, flow of water will ruin my speech
All good days burnt with a little scintillate.
I hate that first time when we met
That place, narrow path through the gate
Everything teasing me which I had not prevent.
Your dear smile with coral rising sun
Your little naughtiness and lots of fun
Now stinging me your wanton element.
I don't understand your motto of this journey
Enjoy your triumphs though I sing my woe
Now I'm waiting and looking for my end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem