My ink has dried,
My thoughts are asleep,
I write no more.
Don't think i'll say adieu,
Its too long a goodbye.
But i'll kiss the stars that once gave me light to see you.
My ink has dried,
My thoughts are asleep,
My heart buried in the embers of wounded trust,
Frail it is,
Now the pieces, i hold.
The soul is wounded
But the spirit not grieved.
The silver rain drops in my eyes,
I'll shed never for you.
Don't think i'll say adieu,
Its too long a goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem