Only when it rain's, will you open.
Afraid of the dark, you linger a little longer,
The sun has rose it's now gone,
Water flow's past you, you stop and remember,
How old you were it was snow at the
Top of the mountain.
What ever is seen now is seen with a blur,
Substituting love at this stage of our life,
Open to me just a little.
My finger, I have lost in the dark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem