Lonly Traveler

It has become so cold here,
That my flowerbed
Has come down with a severe cold.
My petunias wither
Right before my humid eyes
And fall to the ground.
Times are so cruel.
My comrades of the olden times
Were unable to bear
The hardships of the path
And left me alone midway.
I walked the path
Through rocks and thorns
With tired legs and bleeding feet
All the way up
To this place of early winters,
Of the unknown,
Of loneliness,
Of nostalgia,
Of weeping eyes,
Of cold-stricken petunias,
Of friendlessness,
Of bottomless pit of despair.

One day,
Spring will return
From behind the bend
In the wintry road,
And my heart will warm up
With the rays of a sun
That does not crawl into bed
Early in the evening
With exhaustion.
On that day,
I would like you
To be next to me,
To see that
The everlasting snow
That has fallen on my hair
Does not thaw
With the rays of the spring sun,
And to know that
Every spring
That comes and goes
Could be the last
For this traveler
Of the roads of loneliness.

You chose not to be
The walker of this hard path.
You,
And my comrades of the olden times,
All left me alone half way.
I pray that
You be prosperous in your staying.
In my traveling,
Though,
I did not find a souvenir
Worthy of bestowing
Upon the bleeding feet
Of a tired itinerant.

I watch the trays
Of the balancing scale:
On one the time past,
On the other the time to come.
How heavy is the time past!
And how light is the time to come!
So much is the difference
That I know,
For sure,
That one of these days
I will experience my flight.
I am tired.
And the road in front of me
Is still hard,
Despite the gigantic difference
Between the past and the future.
I long for a kind companion,
Who would hold my hand in hers,
Who would whisper
Words of hope in my ears.