I want my heart to be ready for love
And not to catch me unawares
If she ever deems to visit me
In my lonely ship lost at sea.
So many hours alone writing poetry
Mesmerized by words and ideas
That no one will ever appreciate
Or even bother to hesitate
Upon my most fragile lines.
But I’m determined to live
Through the tears of my defeats
On these abandoned streets
Of important loves long deceased.
The days dwindle for romance
To place a flower in a woman’s hair
And to imbibe the sweetness of her fragrance
Like the bouquet of an ancient and precious wine.
The typewriter has been my piano
And my final song is about to fade
As I wander away into the mist
Of a haunted ghost parade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.