When love has passed through Heaven’s gate
It knows which line of course awaits
But its heart is hurting, broken, bleeding
For left behind is one who’s grieving.
Two perfect halves made up this whole
And to the heart was fused the soul,
The living half just wanders earth
But the dead half lived a life of worth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem