In our rooms, we have murmured;
Down in our brains, we drew our thoughts
And the pictures we saw, we desire
As colorful as Ukraine's sunflowers
Brightens our smiles in our dreams.
If the assembly we have forsaken
Our face we lean on this walls to pray,
In faith, we water our hopes
while the clouds become pregnant with rains.
We know our lamentations are due with fruits.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem