I will miss the voices
of the wind in trees
on sunshine summer days
I will miss the voices
of the birds, morning sparrows,
the crows: their feathers, dark as storms
I will miss the voices
of the children at play
hanging upside down on summer slides
I will miss the voices
of all the hungry ghosts
of all my cats, that I have in memories
I will miss the voices
of new babies crying
that interrupts alleluias and church sermons
I already miss your voice
though you are here and we talk
I care for it that deeply.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem