When the day grows dim
I think of him.
When the times are grim
I think of him.
And all my thinking is for naught.
So wrap it up and stop the thought.
When the day is done
I think of him.
When there is no sun
I think of him.
And all my thinking is a drain.
So wrap it up and stop the pain.
When the days are cold
I think of him.
As my years grow old
I think of him.
And all my thinking is a woe.
So wrap it up and let him go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem