that was the moment
when value was put to a letter
one which you read so many times
alone always remembering that kiss
that hug, the sleeping together
in one room one rainy night when
home is far away, when there is
only the two of you not remembering
what passed, that land which landed
on her breast, that foot on hers,
the paper went yellow, like a pencil
with a cut head, which you do not wish
sharpened, and there was that night,
when everything was thrown in the dark
the window did not wink, the stars were not
there, and you are alone, mumbling
going crazy over nothing, remembering
that which does not remember you that
which has no love, cannot love and never
ever was any kind of love, foul and stinking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem