I spoke to her
Not through a discussion
That others could hear
Or with gestures
That some could read
That day I spoke to her
I spoke to her
Not through tears
That my emotions
She could feel
Neither through eyes
That my sorrow
She could see
That day I spoke to her
I spoke to her
Not through a relative
Who delivered the message
Neither through the lyrics
Of the song she liked most
That day I spoke to her
As she slept forever
Shrouded in white
The mystery of death
Her clock of life
Having stopped to tick
A child so young
Such a scene I had to be
There to bid goodbye
To the mother
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem