In the evening
When the day is done
And I have nowhere to go with my mind
I write these lines
As prelude to one more night of interrupted sleep
I say in them farewell to a time that will never come again
Not knowing how many days and nights are left
I write with a quiet sadness of yet another day done
Which will never come again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful Shalom and so true any day could be our last