Indiscriminate crowds gather to see a lonely person dissipate,
mercenary personalities are always willing to wait
to take a vague comfort in somebody else’s genuine pain,
to smile quaintly in a bedroom at the pillow tear-stained.
There are cruel encounters beside autumn leaves,
lovers kiss a final time in a sunset breeze;
the only way to survive this life of departures
is to accept the capricious whims of fate
without too many tears or expressions of hate.
It is better to walk alone with prayers
than to be shackled to another with numerous cares;
it’s better to weep in silent rooms
than to hear insincere laughter amid the stale perfume.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem