If hurt of the past
comes today,
it may tinge a little,
linger a little.
Take a deep breath,
look it in the eye,
perhaps even smile,
and nod at its presence.
For a hurt of the past
will always be as is—
a part of what was,
and never of what will
if you don't let it be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem