I wonder whether
remembrance is
a gift or a curse?
As it pierces like
a sharp needle
in my heart.
Someone who'd
dwelled in my heart,
Had walked
far-far away.
My eyes unaccustomed
to tears,
Shed a dropp or two.
In the pain of
having lost them
forever,
In the fading
winter mist.
While I still
remember those
who'd gone far
away,
And who would've
even forgotten
me by this time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem