In Silence
Her hair was like cotton,
Wet her pillow with tears.
Her whispers were dying:
'No returning husband,
We have a single child,
A daughter, that is all,
She does not have a child,
And has her menopause."
Talked and whined,
On a sick or death bed:
'I will go as the second,
Can see the end of us!
Repeating, she went on:
'He went and I will die,
She will leave after us,
No one left behind us,
This is the end of us…'
Inside went her breath,
And never came again!
What we felt was silence:
'This is the end of us! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Silently everything will be done!