Sitting here on this fallen tree,
imagining what it could've been.
Maybe you sitting here next to me,
my cold fingers being warmed by you warm ones,
Together looking out at the flowing water.
saying nothing but in the silence,
saying so much
As the sun sets
I sit here alone,
thinking of you
Wishing that the could of been,
would be reality
Silently I feel my tears,
dripping slowly down my face
Watching them splash against the dead bark
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great use of descriptive language, your words are well chosen and the meaning is deep. Good job