Back into the sun set horizon,
Bird flying to secret cloud,
Squirrel burrow into less frequently,
Hear cricket, sing loudly.
Amid in the night,
Only Stars and the moon, my friend,
And light candles to light the flame,
Voice flute, make my heart feel lonely touch.
Sound played the sad music sad cord,
This is how thousands of grief-talk,
Asked me, to help console,
Waiting on my mercy, care be.
Can not try to sleep, lie down to sleep,
Because my heart melt, as wax is forged,
Be secretly sent to, the owner of flute sound,
Wants to help console, to depression, isolation, away.
Sugar Wong
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem