it was the kind of silence
that even the
steps of the ants
can be heard
the flutter of the wings
of the butterfly
the falling of the leaf
from the tree
touching the blades of
the grass
it was like the last
ever closing of
the eyelids
indeed it was so
peaceful
but he was no longer around
to tell it to you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow...this kind of poetry makes me love creative writing even more. I like it a lot.