I feel the sadness of all our lives
yours and mine
and yours no less than mine
Its momentary joys
and strange glimpses
of half-truths
The violence of our birth
the long silence of our death
and the way we die each moment
and each moment are reborn
I feel the silence of our lives
the solitude
amidst the noise
the words we never say
even though we're always talking
the hands that long to speak
the feet that long to dance
and how we stutter through our lives
in sadness and in silence
and how often - long before our dying -
the silence claims us completely
for its own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem