the white innova runs
for hours on this winding road
climbing mountains
we see the green forest
beside us
we are on rocky cliffs
we see the rivers wind
down the mountains
we are inside this silence
awed
overlooking the world
somehow this break
shall make us ponder
how we wasted time
on some nooks
of depression
and unnecessary worries
about tomorrow
the winding roads
still climb up this mountain
we look back seeing
the same winding roads
you say
there is no use going back
we look forward
the thrill up there
we do not discount
there is a valley somewhere
where we soon stop
and relax
then we shall talk
about this life
about these winding roads
that seem endless
to our gazes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem