something was nice without you
the one for whom my love professed
the emptiness is the fertile ground
of growth for all those seeds
of poetry....
the time has come to detest your
presence and given the choice
by the gods
poetry or your love and your
face to kiss
i have chosen the beauty of words
the life of my emotions
the conversations with time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem