Lonely worlds,
Skies are dark;
Dead dreams muttering words,
Deep inside am dying,
But my big smile,
Gypsy tells ‘em am lying;
At night, my soul is weeps,
While my snoring other sleeps,
Memories are far away home,
Out in the wild, outside this dome,
My sobbing heart sits,
Plucking and biting the wings that took it there, it beats,
There where my body and bones,
Shall lie silently to die,
Once my time here is done,
Oh! once am gone,
shall on grass glass shine still?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem