Oh that I could have the days back
when your fire kept me burning.
Many of these days I feel the lack
and feel my heart a-yearning.
But at least my mind can think about
when every night was glory.
Never did I think you'd leave,
Oh what a sorrowful story.
Not fit to tell to anyone,
not even my best friend.
And so I keep it all to myself
and allow it to finally end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem