Noisy crows are circling round the ancient garden oak
Just fly away they cry, escape these sombre skies!
But no wings can take me back
not even the crow's -
to those rose-tinted days
and my dark crimson soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Memories are always bittersweet for we long for the good times past, but they are only a memory of what we once had, they cannot be relived. Very good expression and rhythm. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn.