honestly i still miss
you, and at night i still
dream of you,
my love, my lost love,
my leaving dove,
but i am old and has matured
like a dried frond,
not affected by the coldness
of the sea wind,
strong to the storms and its
constant comings and goings,
honestly i miss you, but what can
i really do?
follow you and be lost too?
not to move on and just be a
another rock facing the ocean?
i shed off, i comb my hair again,
i straighten my nose and swing my arms,
i move on, to another street and
another street, but as always, i keep
on going back home,
my heart and life are still there
waiting for my
restrained laughter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem