THERE WILL COME A DAY/ WHEN I NO LONGER WRITE
There will come a day
When I no longer write-
No dream of poetry
And no new poems will appear-
The world will have many new poems
As it always does-
But mine will not be among them-
As in life so in poetry
We are in our own small worlds all- only to ourselves-
‘Horseman pass by’ said Yeats as his good- bye.
But who was Yeats,
And who am I?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem