Who sings a song of sorrow better than the sparrow in the snow?
Keep silent swaying, sitting reluctantly suspended at the sycamore.
Slowly suffocate the darkness, see the sun at rise sneaking, bestow.
Silly little sparrow, seeking softness by the sky suffering as she soar.
She Who sweeps and keeps her Secrets safe and snug behind the door
The sparrow sighs as she sleeps and her voice ever sweet and ever slow.
Separates her choice of solitude from simply sitting in despair
Singing songs of sorrow, lets her suppress the senses that loneliness ensues.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem