I thought it takes at least a year or two:
For whom you know to hold enough yet dear,
To wish they were fore'er to you so near,
For empathy to show; alas, undue!
Oh, why—with you—within those moments few:
I cherish every breath because I fear,
That when you go all air would disappear,
Then I'd be back—don't want—but dead anew!
I'm standing here with all those moments gone,
I know I have a million miles to go,
I'm hoping they would keep me company:
Till both our paths are intertwined, anon;
Oh, then I'll have a million ways to show:
Our song's still on, so no so longs need be!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem