Oh wailing, sad voices, I wrote the books
And now that I'm driving the lid on you
I can't believe I cried so much
That so much sweet, drunken boo was fermented in me
I couldn't pour a rare smile into a song
Just tears fell from my eyes, oh I cried enough
An ugly voice drove me inside to write that way
And believe me, the joy of Joy is being completely forgotten
But behold, my sorrow is already slain in rhymes
And I am sorry that there is no one to wipe my heart
Oh come back old, relieving sorrows
I do not soak you with a weak bachelor poem
But dredger in my chest My loneliness is sharp nails
And I'm already crying because I can't see a beauty
Earthling your poem makes no sense, and you misspelled the title.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
But behold, my sorrow is already slain in rhymes And I am sorry that there is no one to wipe my heart Oh come back old, relieving sorrows I do not soak you with a weak bachelor poem. Oh i cannot see beauty. fine reflections my dear poet. thank you. tony