Alone I sit upon my chair.
Blankly at my pen I do stare.
On the paper my words are there.
From within my heart there was much care.
Amongst my pages your eyes would stare.
Many of verses we did share.
How many eyes we did tear.
Alone and forgotten was our only fear.
A poets dream must never disappear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem