selfish hearts do seldom
love, create a star or
biud a moon. moon's
are sung by poeted
love all too fleeting all
too soon.
unmarked love forgets its
place and follows joy to
endless death, as
unmarked graves forget
to love and pray a hell in
ceasing breath.
(January 15,1965)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem