A fool I am my friend
I tell myself again and again
that I started forgetting you
well within.
But yet I feel like a river's feign
of oblivion of the sexy sands of brim...
and like a mountain's design
to move away from lovely cloud woman.
The inner volcanoes burn
and burst often
filling my heart
with hot gushing lava of passion
my outer blues are seared
by vindictive Sun
You are my true solace
inside and out
recalled or forgotten...
whether I confess or turn down.
Yet A fool I am my friend
I tell myself again and again
that I started forgetting you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem