My mind can't sleep; ,
my eyes can't weep;
I'm running just on air.
I cannot keep
falling so deep
each time I see you there.
The hills are steep
from which we reap
the seeds of long-lost care.
And though I'll leap
from the scrapheap,
this never will be fair.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mr Dan brown I like your new approach to poetry.bravo