I stood over your grave this morning, and my eyes refused to cry.
I want to cry, I loved you, so much, and you left me.
I stood over your grave, and I couldn’t find a tear.
I tried and tried, but nothing would give, I couldn’t cry.
I stood over your grave, and looked up to the sky,
Praying for the angels to take care of you.
At least, until I’m back by your side.
I stood over your grave, and put down a bundle of roses.
They were black. Black for the way I felt that morning.
That morning when I was unable to cry.
I stood over your grave this morning, and wondered aloud to myself;
“Where had you gone? Why had you left me? ”
All the things I didn’t understand came flowing out.
I stood over your grave, and prayed for the day I would die,
If only just to be with you one more time.
I stood over your grave and carved my name in the mud next to you,
So that you would feel me with you all the time.
I stood over your grave this morning, and my eyes refused to cry.
I don’t know why.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem