Twelve years; has it been as long as that?
I’m conscious of the grey that streaks my hair.
She, however, seems just as I remember
As the day before that day she wasn’t there.
There are no ties that bind me to this woman.
There are no banns that tie her to this man.
This was, of course, an accidental meeting.
Her leaving cut me far too deep to care.
Yet her eyes search mine as if to question
If an ember in the ashes smolders ther
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem