When I look up, I expect to see
The moon,
Flowers from the sky rain down,
On me.
If all the love I had from him
Buckets would I need.
And of all the hearts she ever broke
He lead me to the sea.
Being Catholic,
Heaven's not for girl's like me.
A place I cannot see.
But he said and when parting then,
He said he'd wait for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem