No two people are ever-the-same
by day or by night
their tapers are both lit by shame
the joy of their light.
No two rivers run smooth or strait
the valley is winding
their journey is binding
for their love to collate.
No two forests are ever the same
one maybe birch, another a willow
one mountainous another a hollow
but in the main,
no two people are ever the same.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem