My mind whither cause of despair,
I am sunk in the world of futility,
Like stagnant water of the fen.
I walk, following the trail,
Then I saw a hamlet in the distance,
I drawl because of my curiosity,
Expecting no answer because it sounds crazy,
No one is with me.
I draw near, more step forward
and I'm almost there,
I reached it; I balk when I heard the music,
For sure someone is playing the zither.
Playing a funeral dirge.
I don't have time to sympathize now,
I am tired, slow, and weak.
My heart always sad because devastation takes place in the room of my joy.
And now I'm thinking,
where is the place of happiness?
I need room to stay there,
To lay me in the chamber of satisfaction,
To wear the robe of endless laughter,
And to bathe in the genuine love,
that will consume my life a reason to live.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem