Often it happens
in Spring night
that beneath my window
sleeping branches blink suddenly
and veil of time
in front of my eyes slips..
and then,
while
the lines of two worlds merge
You're entering a dream of mine
whispering to me, come on..
'm waiting on you in a room painted in apricot..
P.S.
And do not forget to
whatever happened to
I love you like before..
immensely...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love you like before, thanks, good poem.