...And so your spirit wanders through the valleys of the city,
Like a cool winter breeze.
It is a pale shadow which I cannot follow,
But whose presence can be felt everywhere.
It rattles the window, closed against the cold.
The curtains shimmy in anticipation of the
Apparition that waits outside.
But when I pull them open to take a look
There is no you, only a soulless zephyr
Whistling pass:
I knew it to be so all along.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem