This line pauses
before it begins.
Not from fear,
but from care.
The next line arrives slowly,
carrying meaning
the way hands carry water—
without spilling.
Here, words are not pushed.
They are placed.
Silence is not empty;
it is working.
Read on.
You will feel
the poem leaning closer.
Not to impress you,
but to stay.
And when you finish,
something remains—
not a message,
but a quiet attention
you did not have before.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem