It is running out,
The water tank is running dry,
We are going to experience drought.
There is an insufficient pressure
To pump the fluids up.
And the remaining droplets
Are all going drip drop,
Drip drop,
Down the drain.
As I lay myself
Here in waste.
What a lovely sound it makes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem