Tender is the night
that takes your breath away.
Tender is the night.
Oh that it could stay
and never change into the day.
Alas, mankind always finds a way
to mar the morn
when war is born
and sounds of hatred fill the air
while blazing bullets have no care.
Where is the tenderness
of their night?
Where is their peace?
Nowhere in sight.
And yet these days go on and on.
Tender is the night
is tragically gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem