And I can feel your heart, restless,
turning in my palm, like a bonfire
that dreams of being a fallen star,
or like a new born, in it's crib
reaching for love, from everyone willing to give it.
And all the stars that tremble
on your denuded shoulders
still remember the kisses, placed
upon your tears covered cheeks.
And then I say to you:
Broken dream, why do you say you are mine,
if I can't remember you?
Why torture me with your lips,
if you are not willing to stay?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem