A dark day is dawning, and a strong storm is nigh.
Fork lightning is flashing and lights up the sky.
Withered brown leaves fly this way and that,
Trees are uprooted, and buildings lie flat.
Is the world ending? Where is the sun?
Where are the moon and stars - where is The One?
All joys are over, we'll be gone with the night.
Tomorrow may never come; the prophets were right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem