Too little time for caring...
the sick is close, close to the heart...
Not enough of the affection of your loved ones
Contrary to what you may think there is a lot of it
Just like fog it encloses and tucks in
and may disappear in a moment
I don't understand this moment as if it were
but not entirely captured
Caring gives a lot of joy if you long for it
It takes a lot of effort and suffering of the soul
while it's there
And I am again between one and the other
But I still have somewhere to go
To the person who's always waiting
To Mother
(transl. by Urszula Sledziewska)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem