Here it is, our empty home,
The only place where we are alone.
It's bitter, dark, lifeless and cold,
The only place where my thoughts unfold.
There is little heat and only few lights,
The only place where we spend endless nights.
So here it is, my empty home,
The only place where I am alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem