Here comes that is called sadness
In a dark robe
To surprise us
With its thorns,
There comes all that is called dark sadness
To sadden our lovely moments
With the death of our loved ones or
With the loss of lovely days,
Here and there
There might be different sadness
That darkens our lovely moments
With a lot of difficult moments
Distributed anywhere and
Even scattered everywhere, and
Always that saddens comes
In different ways
Just to sadden us
With its ugly thorns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem