I said things had to change
but the weight of memory kept pulling me back
to faraway grey skies
emancipated
where the river flows
down past coles.
Close your eyes and watch
the white birds fly by
and the smell of going back
made me lose my place
and the fear of going forward
made me step sideways.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yep, that always happens to me. Great poem, I especially like the 'grey skies' image, it's very apt for the kind of brain-in-limbo-land situation you're describing.