it is a fact,
love and trust
and lust and
faith,
these are
separate entities
apart from us,
and they live
forever,
and they
are still there
even when
we are already
dead
so why
grieve for
them?
they are
their own
republics,
and we are
but winds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem