Bouquets of roses capture my mind, setting me free, allowing
their beautiful scent to come to mind, smelling their exquisite perfume on a serene morning of reminiscence.
Circles of roses drift through my consciousness, portraying
lessons of musical instruments played for years.
Touching soft petals, feeling their gentle fragileness as they
attach themselves to my heart.
Riding backwards through time on tracks of railroad cars,
visiting edges of time forgotten.
Familiar faces popping up in memories filled with relatives and ancestors.
A journey of past years brought before me now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem