mama, i still wonder
why we have never brought you
sunflowers in your grave
why of all faces i still cannot
forget Vincent van Gogh?
have you heard of his ears?
his violet haze? his self inflicted fears?
why do we always bring you roses?
why not indeed the sunflowers?
with all its seeds how can love perish?
how can memories vanish?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem