There, between two pointed Rocks
vast plain to eyes see
a solitary man
stand still
the wind blows from the moorlands
reaches him
pretending
be her voice
fingers of death over your left shoulder
to give the bitter kiss
in the immense meadow
a solitary man
keep vigil
waiting so far
don't seeing this view
between two worlds
where she lay
everything has to do with the wind
as it blows cold and cruel
over the relentless man
molded and carved by it.
among the living
sculptured man
there
embraced by memories
Now wrapped
for deadly dark souls
to give him hell
Blame the Wind!
A soul
cut in stone
like the two rocks
at beginning of the scenes
Yes, Heather, is exactly like that! ! Thanks. Very well expressed! ! ! !
a soul cut in stone like the two rocks at beginning of the scenes good write
who to blame other than wind who bring to the heart the scent and the sound of her love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A soul cut in stone like the two rocks at beginning of the scenes. I like it. I invite you to read my poems and comment.