In the depth of heartache, where grief was born,
Of a sorrow that was made its horn.
Where happiness and Joy turned to mourn,
And lightness and brightness twisted to dawn.
From memory of joy now haunting and taunting with scorn.
Its stem was loss, from love that was gone,
Where sadness and cry was adorn,
Why, Because death was sworn,
Why, Because life was worn.
Leaving the deceased family in forlorn,
And his friends and loved ones in thorn.
Roots of sorrow, where shadows are born,
Yet we rejoice, because death is our norm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem