When you fill all the grief our cells, and flowing with tears of Maqana
When Ntnevsha, drink, and eat
And sleep on, the Ntguety
When you stand Giyumha black barrier between us and the Sunbeam, which was caress our face every morning
We do not have to write about something else
Because we do not know the other
Happiness, joy, optimism
Are all terms which become strange to us
Vocabulary of the language we do not know
May remind us that we were days we know it
But the taste of our mouth when you speak the bitter, mouth bait when we wake up the morning after we ate dessert in the evening washing our teeth and forget
But when joy fills our days, and joy Layalina
There is still a small place of some sadness
Some fear
For some Cjn
Even if the memories of far far away
We feel that it could return at any moment
Happiness is something antenna, ethereal
Difficult for us to catch it
And facilitates the sliding between the fingers
We spend all moments clutching Ptlabebha, lest you go and leave us
Such as children younger
Almmiskin their mother's clothes
So, we rarely find time to write about them and we feel its existence
And we wrote it, we write after her departure
We try as much as possible, remember - or imagine - form
Few are filled with joy to the core
Tsknhm passed whatever their circumstances
And paint a smile on their face
The tears did not dry on the cheeks after
They are able to write about the joy and happiness
And a smile on the face of all of the almost forgotten
