Thy beauty won't last,
Yet thou dwells in thy past,
Wipe thy tears away,
For the morrow is another day.
Thou felt no joy for long,
Soporific is thy song,
For with every changing seasons,
Thou prolongs the same old reasons.
9'Oclock in the Night,
The moon'll appear ere thy sight,
Of him she'd think,
And into her dreams her love'll sink.
Tis solitary pleasure to miss,
Longing for a kiss,
Staring at the lonely moon,
That'll leave soon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good writing, thanks, I like it.