Each new summer dawn fades into winter.
The wild dogs are swarming within his heart.
Her dreams have been usurped by nightmares.
The sickly moon's pestilence grows deeper
Day by day. The night is sagging like
The wrinkled breasts of an octogenarian.
Time itself seems to want to curl up and die.
Love is the icy solitude of distant stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem