There are words to clothe my absent body
(warm me)
There are words to bathe my fleeting mind
(seep)
There are words to sling my weak pinned frame
(rest)
There are words to indulge till my last days
(where are you?)
I have my sack of straw, flowers and books
(how are you?)
I have my nervous raft, and so we will sail
(my love)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem