The fog is so low
that it looks as if,
it’s coming from the ground.
There’s coldness
that pours down from the low clouds,
which send shivers to the soul.
This winter
bites chilly to the heart
as life nears its end
and age tries to takes its toll.
Your unstoppable love
hits much deeper,
than any thing else can go.
Every thing is soaking wet
but at ten o’clock,
the winter sun
burns it away
like on a summer day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem