In that dead silence she lays, 
Swinging her hands drowsily,  so tipsy 
By the wine of life's unpleasant sting....
Her eyes soaked in ruddy tears....
Catching a vague glimpse at the sun - 
That jinxed sun, 
As it falls into its western vale of rest.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    