When words do not flow
Letting silence grow every minute
Every second, the tiniest bit of the way
Who knows what storms rise
Beneath the calmness of the day
If we could not meet, was it fate?
Or just silence building upon silence
Words too shy, too afraid of the flood,
Of meeting no dams in the way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem