The walker breathes heavily. Leaving
nothing he has felt how everything remains.
Along previous years he travelled.
What was hushed, as dust
sprinkled with water, is commemorated.
In tiled landscapes he finds
everyone back, one by one.
Only: return to himself he cannot.
Translated by John van Tiel
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Along previous years he travelled. What was hushed, as dust sprinkled with water, is commemorated. a very good poem. tony