With a faint smile on her lips
She whispered: "I will contact you, Darling".
On the same night she died in his arms
And he was heartbroken and inconsolable.
Since then plenty of water has flowed
under the bridge. And then one day, he was
At home and unexpectedly he remembered
her promise: "I will contact you."
At that moment the telephone suddenly rang
and a warm, familiar voice said: "Hello."
"Sweetheart, it is me." Excited and trembling,
he asked: "Darling, is it really you? "
Silence. The line got disconnected.
The call came from an unlisted number.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem