Are ashes what's left of my fire
Are there cinders left for my soul
Shall my flames ever dance again
In the evening's eastward wind
What will fuel my flames
What timbers are left for it
This is no mere match
I am about to dissipate
Shall I rage on now
Will my red burst forth
From dancing hot waves
May I burn a blue hue
If I take it all to heart
Will I wither away today
Can this travesty cease
Before my dying flames do
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An impressive poetic work. Thanks