When you are dreary
And feelings are rare,
The sleep must be mounting
Like horsemen who dismount
After the war of great events.
The picture is taken for rules,
This maintenance of the soul
Is supreme and longevity sets in.
When you are sleepy,
And your wishes are felt,
The night subjugates the day
With eyes of gold and righteous
Dreams, feelings and emotions
Of the sleepy picture.
My grinding is for your death
To be far away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem