a heart reflecting austere lights
is as good as broken;
but who are we to pretend
that true love does not exist?
my beloved, I know it hurts
but trust me, sometimes it worths
to be the one who loves the most!
tender words..oh! they all got lost,
in shady mists of a cruel past.
our solitude will last..
yet still, there are poets;
and dreams, and special moments!
dear, but who are you to pretend
that your heart I could not mend?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very optimistic read dear Agatha! With changing times mankind should learn to forget the painful past and live up to the beautiful present by spreading the real love to the rest!