This season weakens me.
It scorns and laughs at me.
It tears my heart into thousands and millions of pieces.
I can't stand it anymore,
I want to die.
But wait, Do I really?
I get pulled and pushed.
Shoved away and held.
I am loved, but also hated.
While I reminiscence on the good times,
and the bad.
Snow is falling now.
It's as beautiful as you.
From when i first met you.
And so, I have to ask one more question.
Does this season really weaken me?
Or is it just my imagination?
THIS season weakens me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem