You stand on a mountain taking a view of the vast space
Like any other men and women you have the right to stand in the middle of these
Hills and the rolling sights of everything like some big waves
On this forest,
What you cannot stand like the rest is the sound of howling emptiness
You are on top of the situation I suppose
You are very near the clouds
You talk to each of them that drift and pass but you have not heard even a single
Word,
The birds that pass and go away from where you stand know this
Each has shed a feather or two as tribute
They know much better and they have flown away and lived their ways
They know much better and so they have no reason
To complain. Look at you, your silence is growing like cancer in your ears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem