Those tiny little droplets that flow quickly down,
Have so much to say without making any sound.
They flood the eyes soundlessly until their holder goes red,
And release them drop-by-dropp down the river bed.
Their silent tales of sorrow, pain, loss and hurt
Are told, as the tears, wash away all that dirt.
And once the sorrow is shared, the heart feels light,
Making it much easier for the person to enjoy a smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem