Mirth
Not a popular inhabitant
Of my Soul.
And now the less.
The drear began
Today.
The drear began in
Tragedy.
The drear began in
Pain
And pain continues
Sufferings.
Hear the violin
Play sad.
Though it be not
Dusk even.
And the waters are
A dirty twilight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem