This lonely verse, an extension,
from what whispers, speaks inside.
The words, a piece by invention,
of what the heart cannot hide.
An expression of transferring tears,
repressions from recurring years,
impressions caught by eyes, by ears,
that feed not love, its ascension.
This lonely verse, an extension.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Short but impressive. fantastic!