the empty room embraces you
as you open the locks of your door
you hear the sounds of silence
the moans of love, the grating sounds of regret
for the love that you have neglected
you see the leaves of the flower you have picked
from the garden of desires
wilting and crumpled on the hands of silence
it has the same sound of the sighs
of your indifference, you, loveless and dying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem