I edged my smile on the limits of your tomb
each time I kissed our cross made of stone
heated by summer rays drying the flowers I brought
I know you're there and you can hear my thought
I know you'd urge me to dance with fire and sing
I know for it's our way for a death to be fought
for a life to be lived and a skin to be bought
I know you dead and me alive - we're the same thing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful touch and imagery, go on holiday ore often :)