They in time weigh us down
And make us sad-
We have by old age
Tons of them on our back
And in our heart-
They are an accompanying music
Even of our happy times and moments-
How much wiser would we be
Could we simply let them slip quietly away from us
And be as if they never were-
But then there is loyalty to the truth of our experience and life-
And if one wishes to be true
One must pay a great price.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem