Sleep talks more from not understanding it,
and while they come too see our ghost it listens,
most know we exchange passed glances knowingly.
Waiting less for those few eggs that hatched and flew,
What has raven done, with some bright shiney eyes?
And the rest outside the windows nest, sits empty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is beautiful with the raven and all that's left unspoken...(smile)