The wind doesn't carry my small still voice
Winter calms the nerves that make my hands cold
As the thoughts of us slowly fade into the background
And another year will pass us by
I find that somethings are better left unsaid
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i love this, the depth of the imagery and the heaviness of the concluding silence, indeed somethings are better left unsaid.