People pass by through life alleys
Like wandering soloists
Who walk and spread around melodies
In the atmosphere of houses
Some draw us to the windows
Some make us search for coins
Some don't even stir us
Some pull the pillows
Over our ears
And some of them
Vibrate a string in our hearts
And remind us
Of many of our own melodies
That are waiting for our fingers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem