The one you love comes home
on muddy feet
you open the door
and inside the house
without a word or two for you
sleep soundly
comes
rushing to the bed
dirt lies upon the
the white linen which you have
laundered for
days
when the time comes for waking
again
nothing is said
what for are the coming days?
ah, still for the one you
love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem