Sorrow

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This is for you.

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You rise and fall. You rise and fall.

With the rain and the hail,

you rise and fall.

Griefless snow,

griefless stones,

disturbed, merciless,

plummets that make holes in the soil.

There is mud

on the ground

and on you,

where you fell.

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It is easy to stay down

with the snow and the stones and the rain

that makes you drip

sorrow

sorrow.

Absent it is again,

what made me get up.

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Listen to me,

stand on you feet and get up.

The mud doesn’t matter

-It washes away-

Get up

before the snow covers you

and your eyes get blurred from the rain

and the stone hits you at the heart.

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Before something begins to be absent.

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Hello everyone! This poem was written origonally in Greek, my native language. The translation doesn't do it justice but I hope to read your comments on it nonetheless!

Please review and tell me what you think.