tenderness is a memory
life grows harder with age
the hills are steeper
the burdens are heavier
still there comes a final challenge
a menacing darkness looms
and wind is the only sound
then I will know the winter
the tenderness of mercy
beneath a blanket of snow
I will not feel the cold
I will not hear the wind
my eyes are sealed to the night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your verses here, dear Barry, echo like beautiful bells in the sounds of soul's dignity.