Unyielding in the face of adversity,
A young man resents being called fearful,
As scary as it seems, as scary as it seems.
My objects are like his offering with the same
Strength and longing for peace;
I may be you but what strength are you?
I force the contentment to turn to sadness
And basic relief does not become a part of me.
Let the strong survive, and the weak suffer,
For as scary as the night is, the night weeps everyday
Like a nightmare has been lifted
But still accomplishes its stay.
A young person accepts what night-time remains,
For night-time's flavor is of the black board
And the stars are being taught for will-power
And the judgments and the alienation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem