I feel your absence when the crickets chirp
When thrushes trill their woody serenade
I feel your absence when the larches creak
And fox steps secret through the mossy glade
I feel your absence like a fallen oak
A not-there presence in my fractured now
For Death has stolen the rose's lovely scent
And grief hangs bleeding from the yew tree's bough
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem