Leaving their eyes behind while walking,
they rely upon past glances.
Silence is lying over their bodies,
with soft winds of the dead
and the spirit of devastated places.
If clouds drift into their minds,
it rains in distant fields.
They walk.
When they are weary
they lay down their glances and sleep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
glances and sleep, good write, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.