Just a whisper amongst the gentle trees;
A forlorn whisper of times to come.
An unuttered opportunity in the dying breeze.
A reminder of what is done is done.
It lays heavy on the memory of time
Like a death in the family of lore.
It penetrates the aging mind
And questions what you’re looking for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem