The change of season…
Certain memories are etched
In my loving heart;
But you have consigned them to
The grave of your memories!
(Tanka; Syllable: 5-7-5-7-7)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful tanka. Memories are treasures for many, to me they are my living blood though they plague me like the Hades. But, many choose to consign them to an unknown grave…. A poem that is Brief, but hauntingly grave…