Forgetting only can kills the past.
Reminds are always coming back,
Past, reminds,
have never been erased.
The sadness of hours,
the seconds,
minutes that are passing,
your hands,
your fingers
and kisses
looking for me.
The rocks, the sun, the moonlight,
did not love our lives.
There is not in sepulture
Lovers.
But reminds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As always Umbelina a wonderful gentle poem...thank you for sharing it with us...Fi