Let it be forgotten,
as that flame, it just goes out.
May it be forgotten,
as to where my soul,
it went too there and laid before.
Being young, I am old, kind friend
it's time from long ago, I'm here.
There's a song across the sky,
some wait,
as too my long, forgotten snow.
A roar from the lion's den...deep, profound, lovely... A Poet Who Loves To Sing
I like this one. It creates a mood; something not easily done. I particularly like the last few lines. That long-forgotten snow phrase is especially nice. Thanks, G
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This reminds me of an old poem I once read; but it is new and fresh, and goes forth on it's journey from where that one left off.