The softer than the soft
Your face, 
The whiter than the white
Your hand.
You are so far from the whole
World, 
All, that you have - from
The unavoidable.
From the unavoidable is going
Your sorrow, 
And fingers on your hands, 
With warm, 
And the silent sound
Of the speeches
Bold, 
And the distance
Of eyes - your's.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    