There stands the twilight
Lonely in the vast expanse of the sky
Like the old woman
Sitting on her own small lowly stool
Singing the reflections of her youth
While watching young ones playing:
“Once, I was young and pretty
Jealously, eyes glared at me
Eagerly, hands stretched at me
That was from the low to the peak
But here I am
At the threshold of 'being and being-not”
OLANIYI G. A.
(C) 2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem