The night becomes so quiet,
Where the loudest sound is the clock ticking.
Incomparable to the birthday flowers on the pillar which are dying.
These quiet nights- can sometimes be very gifting,
Depending on how they are spent can also be unforgiving.
The no noise environment is one which I truly enjoy.
Everything seems to be more beautiful and coy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem