Too suddenly our time has passed,
memories do constantly
cling to me,
the things that is intimate between us
does not want to end easily,
there is treason in each word,
with dividing the only thing on which we do agree,
secretive your paramour waits
at whom I stare hostilely
as if I feel like killing him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem