Is it true what I say or never more will I speak, Even though our bones grow old allayed with the wisdom that we meet. So many years are the milestones, all journeys along the way, Love affairs that thought to last, To those that would not stay. Many souls though we held so dear, We loved but soon depart. The violent storms, less Halcyon days that try our timid hearts. For no matter how time makes us all weary, and all troubles that once fled remain, We observe a Jubilant Rainbow, And become the lost child again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem