not your rage, not your age,
not your rashness to jump into a hasty conclusion,
not your hardheadedness,
not your anger, or hate, or
unwanted pregnancy,
not your cries for help when i was away
not your hangover, your hang-ups
not your angst,
it was still your grace that i love
the one which tries to figure out why things did not happen the way we planned it.
it was your patience which keeps on saying
till death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem