The year-end day, at night
The passing people were rare
And lonely the streetlight's bright
And the cold winds split the air.
In the pub at the side of the park,
The laughter crossed the window,
And the sounds resounded in dark,
And shook the twine of ginko.
They try to forget the last
Sorrow and many disasters.
Each other laughing, they cast
And release the dark registers.
Suddenly they're silent, it's near
The twelve o'clock and ring,
'Happy Newoo Year! '
Like choir, the unison, they sing.
-Kinsley Lee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem