Twilight, thin light, little light.
My night is near,
As my time is mere,
To the era of dull.
My eyes go blink-blink,
As my Windows gets shut.
My time now short,
As my days gets rot.
I, ll breathe my last breath,
As my soul rides on breeze.
Nap, nap, nape; elaborate my lap
On my thanks giving lullaby.
And, on my obituary,
I rest my misery.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Touching and sad, but good poem.