Already, she is old and hunched
still waiting
everyday
sunrise, sunset
Unsure, insecure
an untidiness
an empty nest
life's no longer a riddle
sleep's no longer fiddled
there's no more dreams
the insecurities
almost there
only is remaining fear
of dying
like a lifeless butterfly
did she ever ponder
about such feeling
of uncertainties
about life?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We wonder with the poetess.