being the owner away
maids make no hay
but a way to be away.
visited a garden oneday
at day-break as birds pray,
preys prey to the morning ray;
for life all pray but some as prey
pitifully pass away to heaven- way.
so saw I a poetic life pining away
haplessly, helplessly to grab the away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem