A Child Bidding Farewell To His Sunset Poem by Aziz Alkaabi

Good night,
My father sun,

Soon he will go to sleep.

On his golden bed,
And the glorious underworld.

Mystic and so deep.

Good night,
Father sun,

Gilding ringlets,
They curled,
With fabulous red.

I am
your little kid.

Like some Zephyrus tall,
I smile I soar.

Over fey crimson,
Enchanting holes,
You slice in the clouds.

But I am a little kid!

I must be truly small.

May be
I can be a songbird! !

Fluttering tiny wings,
Calling home……

Vanishing there,
Or stumble
I shall fall.

Then,
I will be dead.