Thinking of the deserted feelings of the heart, arid breezes
blowing the dust across many memories of life, causing tears
to fall and sight to blur.
A tempting mood, leading to an interior flood of tears at the
many memories of his time while living with us all here on
earth.
Now playing all the strings his lovely, simple heart adores.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem