To my sole companion:
The fear I'd rather hide;
The envy and solemn grief
And my soul-searching pride;
The words: profound and meek;
The temple and the stronghold;
The threshold of my spirit;
The body: weary, lorn;
The desolate regards
To whom a lone desire
Evolves around astounding
The heart of its dead pyre;
The time span of decline
Too narrow of its cone
Lacking of its multitude
To captivate its throne.
Ne'er does death speak of life
Nor hopelessness recalls
The never ending journey
Of the heart, of the soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem