No sound
Just the whistle of the wind on th grass
Feel its gentle blow pass
No sound
One sound
A chitter chatter of chipmunks
Scrambling over a dead tree trunk
One sound
Joy
The animals come out of their bunks and holes
The joyful creatures with merry souls
Joy
Death
A silent bullet in the air
Removes the light of a mother deer
Death
No sound
Just the whistle of the wind on the grass
Feel its gentle blow pass
No sound
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem