Thirty years has come and gone,
Who sings the chorus of our songs;
Who hums the lingering melody
Of what was our brief harmony?
The kaleidoscope of angry voices
The desperate search through discordant choices;
The gondolas where I was docked
The ferris wheel, the ticking clock;
But due to my dull persistence,
My stubborn faith, my soul's insistence,
I found you late in my quest,
And found I settled on the best.
My voice is weak and out of tune,
I whisper softly as I croon,
And while I wheeze and rasp and choke
I'll sing my love song, affirming hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sum it up so nicely in the last line.