He measures out his words, to me
As though a bridge were built
Upon my heart-strung furor;
The cable strings, to tilt.
He gives me not too much-
To bottle up the dam;
But just enough to drain
The emptied heart I am.
He knows that once too much
His soul of me, is given,
The bridges very strut
Supports will be unriven.
I will not need a bridge, then
To cross over his embrace
His tactics war must fail-
But look once, in his face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the imagery in this one. Well done -