Restoration
Thanks to what has happened
We are not united.
But still the bridge between us connect us
Children that we made.
Some ask me how I feel
I answer frankly:
“Never will I rejoin, or share bed …
But I have forgiven…forgotten…”
I mean it.
They wonder and expect rough, tough words
“Why should I? ” I ask them.
Eyebrows do half talk, and the rest for the tongue:
“People are different.”
Honestly how I wish I could help
I feel bad …sympathize, empathize…
Can see your misery.
Therefore I, unlike you
Not out of politics
Not lying to keep face
Simply…human
Am sad of what happened
Yet confess:
Respect is not clay, porcelain,
In forms of kitchenware, sculpture
To be fixed and repaired
After is broken…or shattered.
Ours has gone beyond words
Our start to the end was silence…
Beds apart...
Till that sign of goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem