There is a time when morning air
hangs silently from clouds
and shrouds of gauze wrap everything
and sounds are not allowed
It is a time when sadness looms
in hearts and souls of those
who never found their way on earth
and never wore warm clothes
No words or kind encouragement
can draw them from that place
where haunted memories abound
and will not be erased
There is a time when morning air
hangs silently from clouds
and shrouds of gauze wrap everything
and sounds are not allowed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem