You are surrounded by darkness.
And encompassed by loneliness.
Your weary wax is well-nigh spent.
You are hopeless and tormented.
The light flickered.
'I burn.' said the orange tongue.
'I go.' echoed the smoke.
Then the smoke softly wafts into the void.
But not before the candle gave it its all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah! Nicely done. As one who lights candles nightly, I can honestly say that now when I stare into that flame I shall always remember this poem!