The never will come
To pick up the late autumn flowers
With frost and short days
When time freezes.
The never will come
When the burden of worries or years
Fall on our shoulders
When comfort remains.
The never will come
When the laughter die on our lips
When the bitterness in our mouth crashes us down
When our own statement scares us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem