I count the days till you return
As I sit under the tree of life
Moonlight touches me,
My wounded heart has lost its music
Without you here.
My soul split in half,
And you are the other,
I am only half without you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a nice one with heart as metaphor....i enjoyed it, thanks for sharing, kasia!