Seagulls pass in the gray sky
and never stop to reconnoiter the area
for humans leaving breadcrumbs.
I am moved by empty streets
where once lovers would meet
on flowery summer days,
but now only breeze-blown newspapers
are moving.
I once thought I should contend
with an unkind world,
to fight for something sacred,
now, I only remember people
I used to love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem