Pictures lasting in minds of loved ones that we were
always around when so much younger, ages seem to pass
us by, yet we get older with each passing day.
Watching as feelings and emotions are being slid back
and forth on the bow of a violin, testing our minds
throughout times we've already lived through.
A vast range of portraits that are being laid to rest
along the way in graves of those we've loved with all
our hearts, sensing the silence of what we've had.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem