I will never know your body.
I will never feel it pressed onto mine:
For desperation, for love, for comfort.
My unberinde soul will never find warmth:
Within your embrace, your mind, your eyes.
Since you will never see me, never crave my touch.
All I can do is mourn memories
That the sun has never let light upon:
without the power to hope,
without the power to escape.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem