it's sorry days not worth reliving
that keep the stars so unforgiving
on nights that seem to melt into
forgotten breaths which form the dew
upon flowers who know not of scent
nor of mans sin which they repent
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wes, this is a masterly piece of writing. The title is brilliant, the verse's execution right on the money. Congratulations, Ivan