My Happiness Is Not Longer Than My Finger
George Mahadma Gowaseb
Our happy days in winter are gone
the happy days are through
The rosy days I used to
wake with you have turned to gray
My happiness is not longer than my finger
The once green grasses
Glisten now with wetness
Red robin is gone
left here by itself
My happiness is not longer than my finger
I have heard the rumor
that summer too will pass
that spring is a sign
that autumn is due at last
But, until I see you
lying in green grass
My happiness is not longer than my finger
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