Around I turned …
About I looked…
Little did I know I was alone,
Not until I had felt the stung of sorrow.
When I was younger…
I felt we were together,
Up until now I have discovered this really,
Is a lonely path.
In a quiet but noisy environ
In a serene but violent atmosphere
Our path is lost to this part
Even as our past hunts us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem