Heart beats slowly with it's coming age, healing quietly,
sorrow existing in each period of change.
Growing forward, hoping to alter endings of tomorrow's
evening with bountiful goodness.
Finding instead, that hope is fading, because fate insists
on continuing down paths of old.
It is difficult to heal quietly when sorrow exists in each
of us, refusing to go through a necessary period of change.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem