'Twas midnight on this desolate winters eve
Trails of frost hung on the withered branches
whispers of the moon promised to torture my desolate heart
Twilight shadows danced a rhythmatic pain
and tortured my soul, thoughts swirling around the mist
A silent teardrop cascades frozen on the shimmer of hope
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem