The winds of time,
Are telling me,
Its` time to leave
You.
Strange noises!
This version of squeaky
Clean.
Ain`t lean or young,
No more.
Whatever I have felt,
Love or less?
Maybe the devils`anxiety,
Has clouded this autumn
Dawn and,
Time waits,
Only as long as obituaries,
Are requested.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem