I'll take a trip.
I know not where?
But any place
where I've no care
is better than where I am.
I'll search for you
until I see
that where you are
is the place for me.
For I feel that I'll be damned
to never feel
your lips on mine
or taste of pleasure
like sweet wine.
I would dry up like a clam
that's left on the beach
under the sun
where I can't hide
or ever run
to find I'm the sacrificial lamb.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem