your long black hair
blown by the wind of the sea
you eyes closing to feel what is inside you
some tears unseen from a distance
you embrace yourself in the middle of this
ice-cold morning
you stand there like a lonely post in the desert
the wind howls and the rain begins to fall
you run for shelter
wet and cold and i see you but i shall not ask for your name.
i remain here also drowned by my own storm
but i am not running for shelter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem