Winter of Discontent
The cloudiness has settled in the sky
And act as an unpalatable truth of the kind
Summer sun so easily hides.
Old dwellings are full of cracks, sagging roofs
And dust on window sills.
Pot-holed roads grey as clay leads from doom
Till the gloom of routine the sense that
Nothing changes life is an endless struggle
Spring is so far away.
Then, the miracle happened splitting clouds and
I saw the sun as did the flowers in the garden
Warming my face and let the illusion continue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem