my mind is not as right as rain;
the treacherous deeds of life,
casting gloom over,
the whole soul of mine
where the thunderous clouds,
of my ever depressed remorse
shrilling to pour like a heavy-shower
at the eleventh hour in the back of my mind
Now I'm cursed like a dust-eater,
and I kissed the dust by all means.......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem