Darkness till seven,
Twilight by four,
Daylight is something I'm so longing for.
Black in the morning,
Bleak before dinner,
Memories of sunshine are only a glimmer.
Day after day, it's gray and it's cold.
I dream of the spring with its green and its gold.
A deep freeze drawn in black and white.
One long sleep in a dreamless night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem