Soft blue oh silent night,
Into diminish dark light;
A day turned again old,
With flickering flame to hold.
As young in twilight dark,
A flower once in color spark;
So far from dawn's sight,
Oh day grown old of bright.
Like love that I have lost,
When cupid's arrows crossed;
A heart in lonely breast,
When youth from it bequest.
Ah lonesome is thy name,
When burned out is this flame;
That gave a day its flight,
And made the colors aright.
Soft blue this open sky,
Of dawn that's coming high;
Like love that burns to hold,
Until it dies again in cold.
Each love is like this day,
Flickering flame turning way;
From young to growing old,
When all of life is unfold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem Peter