When I was young,
about five,
I understood
the language
of those speachless -
small kida,
beasts, trees
and incects.
I knew that
growing I'll
forget that language
and that
made me sad.
The sadness was acute,
and not childish.
I have lost
the undertanding
of the speechless
and have not accquired
understandng of people.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When we lose the innocence of being a child, we lose so much. Thanks for sharing, Victor