While still alive, look as dusk closes in
the moon light on my face, could not be felt.
Those voices that murmur above my tired head
are all the voices in my life unremembered.
If I in life, stopped the wind from blowing
look now as a gentle breeze dried your tears.
And even then if your face could not show it
it was your heart and it's sound that I heard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem