Northern storms weep through
the mist and blow dormant away...
freezing onslaught from east mourn
upon my countless dreams,
but I can't compare it to fleshless pain...
down the shallow river and through
my little realm, along with hopelessness
and bane, I hear bird singing or
I hear beside you cry but it's just
a frozen whispers lie, newborn disabled
wings fly over the mountains
to see the innocent purity
that has never been sprinkled by the sun rays...
there's everything willingly goes to seclusion,
with everlasting frozen bane...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem