Crossing that bridge.
All alone, I am waiting.
Wanting to build it.
Smiling tenderonnies.
They only look
that way longing at it.
Because you can't have it.
The other side of that bridge.
Where I sit and wait pateintly.
For you to finally come.
Me with your hat.
And you with my net.
Fish, hide here beneeth it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem