If I whispered that I missed you, so silent so not to frighten-
The spirits of the wind, so they can guide you gently towards me
Would you follow the sweet scent, of the roses I carry for you,
Would you walk along the bare ground, where we walked many times before
If I replayed every moment, like frantic flashes of bright lights
Would the images become you-become us. What we had before fights
If I plea on knees for forgiveness, such heavy burdens- my knees bleed
Would you wonder what an embrace feels like, when you tell me that you do.
If I held my own rope, my own gun, against my fragmented life
And no tears would have fallen, but instead pours your name all night
Would you hear me, miles away..and come in a hurry, over my way?
Has my image been erased-for you spare me not one graze
If these cries do not suffice- do not wrinkle the surface of the depth of your heart
Then, just once, reply-putting all the past and pride apart
would it matter if I die
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem