inside it is dark
and yet you close the window
i regret having you
you are always as silent as
a thread and the needle
somehow i just feel that you do not
care
but time is a tutor of your
ways to mine,
i enter your room
one day
and i see how beautiful is the light
filtering its way
through the glass
in that usual quiet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem