Inside us: aged time.
Our years know
What the angels know:
The tears of wings.
Our body: as old as our years.
There are so few necessities
In order to survive:
The water of a gaze.
The bread of a smile.
Little by little
Even our words
lose their childhood:
They believe no longer
In what they say.
- -
From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lovely writings- Little by little Even our words lose their childhood: /// step by step all are decaying