There is a lot ofsilence
between you and me.
It's not just the silence
of my words and your words
that fall between us,
or not just of a silence
that split us as nicelyas
mine and yours.
And not the silence
of porcelain plates,
waiting in the wash basin
or the silence of wet clothes
hung in the unkind rain.
Not a damn silence of habits
that puts us ininstant slumber.
I try in vain
to decode the strange pain
not knowing in brain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem