The day is coming when the sun will become exhausted
and in her agony she will stop shining.
Darkness will sail across the sky and fill the earth.
The moon will bleed and she will glow red.
The earth will drown in her blood.
Like the First Ocean it will cover it.
So why is it my mind is fixed on you?
As for you, who can tell what your true intentions are?
Your mind is a labyrinth, unable to maneuver through.
Alas! All I have are your dying thoughts, saying their last goodbyes.
O! We were so free! we were so young.
We were naive! We were as good as dung.
So many doubts, so many guesses.
You took all my time...
You, you were my poetry.
But now, you plastic cutlery:
useless.
Ah! But even plastic cutlery cuts like this sharp poem. Very good. I enjoyed the trad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dang iPhone and my glass hook thumb. I can't even hold a fork, but I am good with a knife, I meant to say read! Glad that's cleared up.