Darkness slowly vanquishes day
Once a noon with rays of brilliance now turns into a Stygian night
On my face are the wrinkles of time
On my flesh are tattoos of hardship
Eyes with the blurriness of age
Its time, its time to go home
The sweet prepared paradise
Made by the hands of my Father
I'm sad to leave you my love
Though you've served no perfect joy but I can't escape natures wrath
I will miss your morning dews
I will miss your bright sunshine
Your redroses and blue violets
I will miss your festivals
Your beautiful sons and daughters
And meals of great sumptuousness
Its hard to leave you I must confess
Tears running down my face like a cheetah's tribal mark
I make my bed to lie and rest
Though willing is the spirit but weak is the wrinkled flesh
I'm close to my destination
And no amount of emotion can take me back or keep me longer
When I peep through my windows
I can see the picture of home
Where life is but a bunch of joy
For now you can weep and wail
But we shall meet someday
where you will never weep again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I will miss your morning dews I will miss your bright sunshine Your redroses and blue violets..a meditation on death, heaven, . very well written full of emotions. my dear poet love to read your poet. tony