Lying under the violin tree,
I hear the song of sorrow.
And wait for a better and
Happier good morrow!
I get the smell of the burning heart,
I feel getting away far, and far…
Where there is no, painful tune,
Will be chasing me ever!
You know, how blessed am I with,
My joyful home and hearth!
Still, I lack the world for all,
And a peaceful good earth….
The leaves of the tree fall,
Upon me, I can not count,
How many they could be in all!
I'm lying there on leaves' mount.
Who plays his finger on my
Sad full heart, I don't even know!
The grief is shedding,
Tear on me, I'm weeping so!
The pathos in your lovely poem plucks at the strings of my heart. Very very nice.Thanks & Wishes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A Lovely interesting write, a great poem.