He left because he chose you; the sky
bright stars, the moon was out to sea.
High up i gaze out over the foggy night
i lean against a tree, feet of roots i feel.
Every few steps i rest and must again now
my heart turns over violently in this death.
Up above one lone cotton cloud now waits
as the boat i miss white sails on it i drift.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem