Memories from days gone to pass,
Each of us has to declare our own.
Some stung by events that have come,
To go with feelings still kept left unhealed...
Will never experience true happiness,
With it within them felt to last.
And this kind of agony fed entraps.
Since it is those memories from days,
Gone from us all now to pass...
Are like obstacles to face to have removed,
Without wishing, if ignored, they will go away.
They don't.
That which is invited to stay,
Eventually takes who welcomes it for granted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem