She hums and sings with life to fill
A gentle life; her hands, her will.
And all is clean, in its place its
scared nook.
In her temple.
A modern shrine to the life
I've declined
In favor of more exciting strife.
Yet its air will seem still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow this poem is just awesome.please check mine