If you stop loving me
in one day of our upcoming days,
Oh, never be like the wind in each day
climbs up shadows to reach my lips.
If your feelings withered
like a slow autumn through my windows
be sure I'll plant another roses in my heart,
So go from me silently toward those isles
where everything extinguished or forgotten!
For me I shall lift my arms..
and pray, it may the wind passes through me
and take off your roots, I may not care at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem