Late hours.
We realize
The years have taught us
Without teaching
The way the rain
Teaches the grass how to grow.
Evening's river.
Our body: a weary leaf.
Slowly it lets the water
Carry it along.
The twilight inside us.
We learn how to say
'Pain', 'solitude'
With a quiet tongue.
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From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem