Beauty and sadness
Are two of life's gifts
I cannot write anymore
Because the words as they come mean
Only a dream that does not make sense to me
When one is young and lost
There is hope of finding the way
But so old now
And so tired
What can I hope for in these words?
Or any other?
Beauty and sadness
Life and death
The long road
And the quiet goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem