Waking up, I see it is the morning
and I ask myself why as I hold her
delicate shirt. Even in the same
room she was a seagull that was out at sea.
Why did I come here to this
barren house, this den of lies
and home of nothing. Here I stand,
a stone, hopelessly lost in a blizzard,
looking for a cozy fire to sleep by.
I am born again, warmth is found.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem