It was a beautiful day
The streets were painted red
We sat beside a lounge
Gathering the old
And new ribbons.
We tossed them up like kites
And refreshed all past memories.
Each ribbon we held
Could sense something rekindled
We had fun during the day.
And at night we plunged ourselves to rest
But when I peered at our glued hands
The red ribbons had disappeared
I saw a scroll with lots of kisses;
'Don't remember me only on vals day'- it says.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem