Who chased the sun-boy from his place?
Whyever not does he appear?
Who wiped the blue from sky-girl's face,
and draped her such grey austere?
It seems to me sky-girl is whining,
whinging, weeping drizzly tears;
Moaning at sun-boy reclining,
lamenting all her unfound fears.
Oh woe! that I should wake this time,
devoid of joy and heartfelt cheer,
I'm sad, for neither reason, rhyme,
just to match this atmosphere.
And so I plod on, onward trudge,
Today is dull, I'll hold my grudge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem