Night is the right time
to unveil your thought.
Even me act like drunkard
as night grows old.
Peace is there, but grief governs
mind with certain kind
of solitude then.
Sadness makes the party
of emotion thicker.
You are happy but,
too much happiness
wants one drop of tear
to taste life with
its totality.
So I mix glum with
bliss, and drink
the juice to the lees.
10% Glum 90% Bliss? I could get drunk on that and blow the world a kiss!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thomas, thanks for your information and wonderful comment.