That's shrill in mid of night,
See the sky fall in a blight,
It now comes with all fright,
Insomnia and all for a fight,
Slump on bed with all weight,
And you are there listening,
To every rain drop falling,
Careless footsteps walking,
Wrinkled aged eyes peeping,
It's tongue aloft in wanting,
Mama, the nights are in pain,
Take a bow and shoot the rain,
Days wore quickly to no gain,
Our eyes wet the pillow-again,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully constructed. Please kindly check my poems HOPE and THE BEAUTY OF DEATH. Kingsley Egbukole