when I come back from walks
or if people see me by the river
or if a couple I know walk past me
they hand in hand,
me with eyes closed and still
listening to some invisible bird
chirping in branches above,
sometimes some say:
see that sad man;
the lonely man in his walk…
ah friends, I say (and only if asked) ,
aloneness is not sadness
aloneness is not lonely
for the quiet is deeper
than the chatter
and the noise
and deeper still
than the bonds and memories
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem