Everyone has sorrow, some understand it, some don't.
Poet has sorrow, poetry also.
Going to the grain field he also has sorrow. Also he is sad.
The river has sorrow, the mountain has.
Some sorrows are colorful, luxurious and some are colorless -
The postman has just deliver the letter to the girl.Even the sadness of the sun that is washed on the snow....
It only lingers in the shadow of the clouds, there is no ray of sorrow, there is no hearing.
Does the wind have any sorrows, remains?
I am not a miraculous soul, I also have sorrows --
No love, intercourse - .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem