Sad am I this year.
Brought there by them.
They are mine
Mine by blood and love.
Close to my heart,
I have not spoken.
That is not my way.
Their life must be
Without my hectoring.
Do they know my sadness?
Will or would it help
If I spoke now,
Or is it late,
Or too little,
To unbalance the weighted scale?
Cause my heart to sing!
Show conciliation.
Accept, we like, because of.
But, we love, in spite of.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem