It disgusts to admit that for every hour
I gain I near the constant guest
And every bliss bears a burden so laden
Even the heaps of brawny hunks cannot heave
Each tender touch ends in sullenness
And solicit for pure endless happiness
Is probably asking for quite a lot
The chronicles show it is quite common
For swans to disappear at the sound of that chime
For clarity to that brief moment is denied
Even to the faithfull followers
Singing remembrance to the lost ones
We gather in hordes to embrace our hopes
Even though we cannot withdraw fro this grief
For every once in a while a wish goes unfulfilled
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem