When the last petal
of the rose that you gave me
withers,
when the scent
of your skin
disappears,
in the days of the moon
I will watch the hand
on which you used to sleep
and one more time
under the silver rays
I will kiss your lips
to never forget you.
11.3.'15
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem