the quietness of the
setting sun is haunting
the hurried chirp of
the returning swallows
echoing round the school
evokes a forlorness this
evening chill works to thicken
those flighty years have
come back like swallows
to roost, each echoing
a pain, a joy, a tear, a
smile, a hug, a kiss, a loss
each step of this stair
spins a tale, walks me up
a time warp of yearnings
and disillusions
the stair where a thousand
dreams were spun and another
thousand trailed the wind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem