this morning
i write more poems
as i listen to
some old songs,
and remember those
dances
with you and so many
others
which i do not deny
after all
that i too have loved
so many
besane mucho
quizas quiza
tango santa maria
dance me to the end of
life....
i guess, this ends,
what we had,
what we shared, what
we had kept
the red rose
sub rosa,
the dying rose,
scattered petals
flowing in that
river of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem