I like the sound of Sadness.
It rests pure,
On a rusty red heart
Bulging,
And overspills emotion
That embraces the soul sincerely.
Sometimes I see its eyes,
Thick-black and weary
Of year upon year
Of weighted afterthought
And unfounded goodbyes.
Yet the sound -
A deep gut-wrenching rasp
That bursts ribs and robs us of breath,
Is everything to me
Of hope,
And heart,
And the redemption of mankind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem