I envy the deaf—
For they are spared the nonsense I endure.
Idle words. Piercing lies.
Noise that wears down the soul.
Yet I pity them—
For they cannot heed the thunder,
The siren's cry,
The warning in a mother's scream.
Their silence is my longing.
My chaos, their calm.
Their peace, my burden.
My pleasure, their absence.
What I suffer, they escape.
What I cherish, they miss.
Between us—
A quiet war of sound and silence,
Of loss and gain,
Of pain and peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem