I can write the sad lines,
today from the morning.
Because, for the smile,
I don't have
the willingness at all.
I am feeling sad, tear in my eye
is spinning, and I want to ask,
where you are, real my best,
my ideal? where are words
whispered to me, to the ear?
your hot kisses, at one time,
heats as if the fire
I am finding today
already, only on cards...
of memories...
I know, that you will always
think about me, the same as I,
about you, too, believe me.
in the moment of memories
you, can will returning to me always.
I remember and I won't forget up
to the time, when with me
the power will be...
all the way, to the moment when
the time will end...for me...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very moving as a hand that reaches out.