Where are they, nowhere
Moving past is the night sky
Someone walks with a lame
Words rolls down on her lips
Stays there , on those parched lips
Mockingly indifferent you sit
Once again, spring unveils nothing but fall
Smoke takes shapes quite unheard of.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great ending. i appreciate simple observations of the ethereal. great last line