Birds chirp loud and I wake up,
A state of discontent!
A past avocation though...
Those dazzling stars at night dim my sight,
Darkness consumes me gradually!
A past muse though...
I pull the strings hard,
In a hope to spawn symphony...
But the eternal melancholy lasts.
I look towards the blazing flame,
And the sight of that frivolous moth scorches me,
I search for euphoria!
Suddenly I hear my soul's silent gospel,
My heart looks for truth in your eyes...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem