Every shade of green, painted on your eyes,
every different shape, of your beloved smile
left a lot of marks
in the poems I wrote.
But do not think, that I have turned my heart, against you.
My love, I do not wish to spill your tears, on my verses.
They are not worth
that much attention.
And though here, on my lips, your name is still love
the company of the rain, eroded much of the feelings,
the kisses, and the hugs,
I got from you, then.
So, I do not try to sink the ship, that's sailing you to him.
To turn your heart around, back in the palm of my hand,
to be again the king, of your castle of yellow leaves
is not my goal
not anymore.
And now, to make the poem short, so I could go to sleep,
I find you different, from the most of the world, that surrounds my heart
I find you sublime,
and unforgettable,
my dear November.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem