The night will cover me
It will hold the secrets I have inside
Let it make a toast to reality
To which I much ablige
Rigid are the roots
Of the Tree who bears my name
I look to the color of my blues
For where I am to blame
Sorry is my sorrow
For ruins that lay and grasp
I hope for that good tomorrow
But today I desire first not last
Weeping is my name
And mourn comes trembling on
Today I will stay the same
But soon this treachery shall be gone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem