Yellow grass are growing
where it was green,
its icy cold
where the summer sun had been
and now a lazy winter sun
burns much cooler
and the wind cuts
still deeper.
There’s just thoughts
that’s left of yesterday
and the weekend
has passed much to fast
but you are here with me today.
Although the days rush
deeper into this winter
and time flies into years,
it does nothing to me,
if you’re with me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem