The winds of time, 
Are telling me, 
Its` time to leave
You.
Strange noises! 
This version of squeaky
Clean.
Ain`t lean or young, 
No more.
Whatever I have felt, 
Love or less? 
Maybe the devils`anxiety, 
Has clouded this autumn
Dawn and, 
Time waits, 
Only as long as obituaries, 
Are requested.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem