The uneaten satsumas
sat there all day
as we played
with words
with love
with words of love
with wordplay.
And by the process of osmosis
the satumas soaked up
all our pleasure
until they came to
(somehow)
mean us
and the wonder
of that wonderful day
that nobody can take away –
and now
that is why
satumas
always make me
cry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem