'Your life whirled in the miseries.
And our relation
became strange in time.
Now we meet in fog -
in the cold moonlit night
But feel only the presence,
see not each other.
If I cry much on that grief,
the tear will end forever,
May be for that sadness,
my eyes will be lost forever.
I don't know where the last sorrow
laid in this earth:
So, I've kept an eye for that,
hidden in my heart.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem