This November, I remember
The pleadings of her for me to
Leave her forever,
To leave her when her lips were ripen
Like sweetest smelling red
Strawberries,
To leave her before the messengers
Of death fading her rosy cheeks
Into snow white,
She wanted me to live a long life
Embracing sweetest memories
Of our shortest love,
My sacrifices were unwelcomed
For I was selected to be a bearer
Of souvenirs of love,
Today after many Novembers
I am still lamenting for your lost
Carrying the love within all the
Weariness of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem