on top of
the hill
below the city
is the
church
with a big
bell
and a
wooden
crucifix
the boys
have grown
into men
the girls
have long gone
and married
and they all
live their
own lives
there is no
more churchgoer
the bell is
rusting and
the glass
windows
remained
stained.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem