In this grey seascape,
the waves lick the shore,
as the wind bites me to the core,
the clouds are heavy,
with the said and the unsaid,
tumbling in the sky,
your image is in the distance,
against the rocks,
getting smaller and smaller,
weaker and weaker,
fading into the mist.......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem, Nicola. Such is my memory in many ways. Thanks for sharing
Your welcome :)