This moment of weakness has been my weakness
This fondness for kindness, my madness!
This trying circumstances which cling like a leech
Onto the soft skin of my future cadaver
Has been the invitation to my woe.
I who found great relief in war
Now find grave war in relief
My celebration of joy: the effect of which is pain.
The fortune days are withered,
The laughter days have dried
The playful days are over
The sunny days have died
Now arrives the life whose warning was trumpeted
Whose tidings were heralded
Whose melancholy was prophesied
My weakness, my shame!
It's a shame, oo my weakness.
Tears fill the drum
Which first poured forth wine
The one abundant in mirth
Now abounds in lamentations
This moment of weakness has been my weakness
This fondness for kindness my madness!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes! The laughter days have dried. Nice piece of work.