The flowers will burst forth,
The birds will tweet,
The golden rays of the sun will dance,
The moon will shine over,
But I shall not be here
To see them.
The buds will crack and cackle
Early in the morning
Or the first flashes of the golden
And glistening sun,
But I shall not be,
Shall not be her to see them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem