I think it noble, this path
Our reluctance has painfully taken,
Where the charred grass turns stubble And the hazel ponds are hardly forsaken.
I think it noble, to part ways;
To let time seal our fortune
In cold & lonely walks
Tho' our hearts beats in tune.
I think it noble, this dainty rot;
Letting it fly with the burning winds
So these withering souls be set free
To someday taste the sweetness that love brings.
I think it noble, searing tho'
To gore these kisses
And let the blades fall on our lips
From saying a thousand goodbyes and endless misses....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem