Silentium Poem by Iwan Jaconiah
Silentium
A morning comes outside a window;
silent and pale
nobody's home, just a broken shadow
standing and laughing beside me.
Home without flowering
since you are far away
oak trees are dancing,
a glass of wine enough to open the new day.
A morning without memories
only one thing reminds me; hope
nobody cannot deny it
here; grass is shaking under the tree.
Moscow, July 1st 2019
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 5:40:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Excellent writing