Dried dew before even poured
Something small was less to think
Melodies lost their harmonious cord
Something less was small to think
Where did the pathway direct to?
Even feet knew no more
Where did the edge belong to?
Even eyes saw no more
Just like meadows losing greens
Everything faded colourless
Then the graves full of sins
In the dark they were sightless
It's the sky too high
And the place too far
It's the proud too high
And the heart too far
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem