i always think of you,
and i am about to lie about it,
but i am not at all times foolish
to love someone who never loved
me ever.
somehow my love shall have its own
place under the sun
on a bright day when all the flowers
are in full bloom
when the rain is thin and comforting
when the mud on the path dries
and when my feet do not hurt anymore.
when my heart finally finds its silent
nook, when my mind rests upon another
prospect, one that is true and kind,
compassionate and ever trusting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem