Drip, Drip, like the dew on the grass,
You can only hope that this sadness will pass.
Wet and salty flow your tears,
The sight in front of you confirms your fears.
Throughout life you will always be alone,
From your first breath till the day you lie beneath your grave stone.
Everyday the ghoul of death will seize,
The people who loved you, the ones who promised to never leave.
Every breath you struggle through,
You'll be alone, poor, poor lonely you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem