I wrote a poem
like a lonely woman
crying for someone
to make a gift of it
whoever passed by
dropped the well’s lid
without looking down
from too much yelling
my eyes got dry
I was blind
it was drought
the acacia grove whistled
for such waste
suddenly the wind
bent my crisscrossed arms
I breathed soul to soul
I cried tear from tear
someone left
without a word
my poem stuck to his soles
like dust
I tore a leaf and signed
I, anno domini
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hello poet Cristina, what a sad, but lovely poem. I enjoyed, Loyd