The table of our years.
We drink the lonely rain-drops.
Little by little
They become part of what we are.
Among days
Like waves of happiness, unhappiness,
Evening come: calm water.
The repose of feelings.
The frail body of dusk.
Yet, inside it
The power of endurance:
Our little victories.
---
From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A Mesmerising poem of great depth. Top marks.