It's late in our voyage.
We left behind
So many unopened doors.
So many rooms
Where we didn't meet ourselves.
Twilight.
The last death of the sun.
The last west.
The evening:
A fragment of time
That contains all that we were,
All that we are.
- -
From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem