It is time of sunset
The eyes can't see beyond
The placid lake where the
Horizon is colored with
Crimson hue
And the ears can't hear
And take pleasure in the
Incessant carols of the
Nest bound birds
It is time of sunset
The limbs feel numb and
Aching with too much work
And skin is hanging loose
Thoughts have
Stopped meandering
Into woods and clouds
And hands can't lift the pen
To write something for you
It is time of sunset
Darkness will fall shortly
When they will hide me
Under a layer of soil
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There are many kinds of sunsets, yet they all share a commonality - the end of something