there are days of drudgery
hours that drag, months that you think are too long
like mountain trails that you feel you cannot really tread
years that look like tall buildings without elevators
you are stunned by all these
you hold the railings of the stairs and wait and then you decide
to just sit there
the passers-by look at you
could be something like disdain
you let them stare at you and you do not stare back
you look down the dusty floors
this is the time when you have nothing at all to say
hoping to find that peace within
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem