I spoke once in the spring,
And again when autumn came— Twice the wind carried my heart,
But you never called its name.
Still, the stars have not moved,
Nor has your smile lost its light. Some stories sleep in silence, Yet dream through every night.
If I never say a word again, Still, you'll echo in my skies—
For some loves live without a voice,
But never truly die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem