Whenever I see an evening star
And a graying sun through rich twilight
I know that one more day has slipped
From a fabric that I held so tight.
A day of despair, a day of mirth
A precious day I had on earth,
That day was mine if I used it right
I ran few yards, I crawled some length,
I scaled few climbs with all my strength,
I lost my days but gained new heights.
When gain was my own the loss was my own,
In happiness too I stood alone,
I looked for a hand there was no one in sight.
I filled my cup of joy to the brim,
I lit my house though the streets were dim,
I closed all doors to the morning light.
As hours went by they left no trail,
All warps and wefts were falling frail,
Of that fabric that I held so tight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'As hours went by they left no trail, All warps and wefts were falling frail, Of that fabric that I held so tight.' is beautiful poetry. Loved your style of writing.