Bouncing on the walls,
it confuses.
Muted vibrations
in this white washed room;
a rebound of voices,
an almost quiet;
it soothes and frightens
the odd listener.
A silence not silent
ringing through the walls;
the faintest pitch,
proof of existence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A meaningful definition is given here to Echoes (2)