you can't see the sun if you're staring at the ground
and all is dark from behind closed eyes.
the birds do sing, louder than sorrow;
there's even music in the rain.
locked in a closest, curled in a ball, facing the corner;
you'd never know if someone reached out
there's sweetness in everything,
if you just weren't so bitter...
and if you only spend time at funerals,
flowers will smell like death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem