Everlasting
Thousands of lines,
Which can change these tides.
I look into the sea,
full of everlasting glee.
I Count the stones,
On which I kissed.
Maybe each time,
Their was a chance I missed…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
for better understanding check your homophones! their should become there because the chances are not possessing a miss! but other than that, this is really simple, yet portrays the point so clearly. well written!