The beautiful evening,
with sun ready to set in.
Sitting beside the lake,
there is the silence all around.
The fog is thickening,
and cold gives shivering.
In a few minutes,
the moments will be frozen.
The time will become History,
never to visit again.
The horse rider on saddle,
patting his Stallion,
will disappear in woods.
There will be left,
Only the silence,
and the sound of the silence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem