I feel but I want to read the notation
of the wonderful music of love.
I dance Polka dance
with the rhythm of love
dancing in my never old heart
but I want to read the rosy steps
of the other heart;
the steps that will never stop
even if my feet get slow and then still!
A death is never a death
when love hugs a life.
Survived by someone special
closest to the soul
maybe alien to the world
that knows only itself
that always wants to know only itself
is the best living after death.
Am I being selfish then?
Craving for an unsound life after death?
At the cost of her living death?
But...
No dream told me that she would come...
Destiny did not foretell.
It is she who told me that she has come...
Told me that she would stay
even when I get grey.
Her eyes have written the poetry of oath
and I am taken to this surrealist poetry!
My growing feet have resigned to her growing hands
and sing and dance together our hearts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem