I see you still
your voice wet with tears
crying: 'For me...for me? '
The flowers almost break their hearts
just being beautiful
and their perfume steals invisibly
making gentle everything it touches.
'Noone's ever given me flowers before! '
The freesia look shocked at this.
'Shhhh! ' I say
and kiss your crying.
And now the years
fall away
and a book falls to the floor
scattering pressed freesia
throughout time
and I see you still...
your voice wet with tears
crying: 'For me...for me? '
And our tears mingle
in these different years.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem