When the rushing rivers
Of life brings with it silt
Of bitterness and frustration
I know you will not desert me
For in this ecstatic state we
Find ourselves in will not last.
So when the rains turn to blood
And the cool breeze a
Destructive storm
I pray that you will not leave me
For we are bound to encounter
The unknown alternative
So let us hold hands
And plunge into the depths
Of life’s vicissitudes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem