The harmed hope, a flickering candle's gleam,
Against the winds of doubt, it struggles so,
A whispered plea, a half-forgotten dream,
Where shadows lengthen and cold currents flow.
We clutch at straws where solace we would know,
Yet fate's dark hand, its cruel designs impart,
And leaves us broken with a wounded heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem