Not my bones but my hopes,
Not my tears but my spirit,
You bruised that night.
My eye is blue and i'm out of clues
I don't see why the roots hate their fruits
I'd give all my damned years to understand
I just want to know what to mend
Is it me? oh is it me
God help me to see
My heart is cold, my eyes are closed, my youth is sold
Is it me? oh is it me, is it me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem