How much I wished for you to come
and a million times, I though I saw your face
returning to me, coming home
as if you were walking through the market place
and girls other women were passing by
through the almost empty silent town
and I was catching every eye
day after day until the sun goes down
but my gentle rose had gone away,
and some flowers withers quickly,
some loves cannot stay
and sometimes love ends prickly:
a person within the mind’s echoes fade
disappears away, into an eternal shade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem