Tributes to accomplishments in years past, standing, collecting dust in layers, awaiting the cleanliness
of a rag.
So intrepidly shaken, startled into reality, the
glass and shining gold, wish to be cuddled.
Put on display in sheets of glass, tables and shelves,
house myriad moments of the past.
Wantonly stationed in points of prominence, glittering
their once upon hopefulness and joy, now in silence
beyond many years.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem