Oh whither shall I cry?
the oceans are of my making
oh whither shall I fly?
the skies are for your taking
I can look no more to them
and hang my head so very low
the stars and tails that trail behind 'em
alone they know my weighted woe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Feeling alone, discomforting, not easy But Poetry is your home, A fortress from which, we hope You shall never roam. Unusual poets are hard to find And you already have your signature, signed. Excellent poem!