i
the season of loving
is the song in the morning
you keep humming
because the love last night
was so warm
ii
on the next season
comes that of the dying day
when things are kept inside
for fear that others may steal them from us
when we lock the doors and windows
when we light a candle
in the darkness of our souls
when we seek sleep
because light begins to hurt
our eyes
when we take shelter on dreams
because reality begins
to hurt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem