Of certain sorrows places come
And life is a masquerade
I sit alone upon this beach
For I too have joined the parade
I adore you for the things you are
Abhor for the things you aren’t
For you will always be
The girl who climbed the mountain with me
Your happiness when you look out to sea
Not the empty costume life’s handed you
For in my dream we approach the floor
Our costumes’ hung neatly by the door
And in each other’s arms we dance
To a Yankee tune so Latin played
Our hearts filled with gratitude
That each found the other
And left the charade
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem