Is someone there, oh weeping heart? No, no one there.
Perhaps a traveler, but he will be on his way.
The night is spent, the dust of stars begins to scatter.
In the assembly halls dream-filled lamps begin to waver.
Small streets sleep waiting by the thoroughfare.
Strange earth beclouds footprints of yesterday.
Snuff out the candles, put away wine-cup and flask.
Then lock your eyelids in this morning dusk.
For now there's no one, no one who will come here.
Translated by Philip Nikolayev
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poignant description of loneliness! Would you please read ' Inspiration'? Thanks.