If only I had kept on walking
It was spring
it was morning
My life was tolerable
If only I hadn't turned
Down that little alleyway
I had been getting by, you know
Suddenly the trap was set
My feet weak on that forbidden path
You literally glittered in the sunshine
Your jet black hair, your lips
Your brow mesmerized me instantly
It was way too late
My fragile world
Now a hundred blue fragments
Of a cobalt bottle
Cutting sharply into the pavement
Aimlessly I floundered in your grip
I cannot tell you how I escaped
This gorgeous hell
I cannot tell you how I crawled
Back onto the avenue
I can tell you I am alive today
A white candle
Coldly leads my path
Today I grow strong
As a Doric column
Out of your greek ruins
I will not dare to stray again, I'm sure
But the memory
The memory is so lovely still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'My weak feet on that forbidden path', 'I grow strong as a Doric column out of your Greek ruins', what a write! !