When the wind bolws in the pasture
And the birds fly near the sea
And you look across the ocean
And you never again see me
Always remember I was waiting
Waiting as I said I would.
If I am not there waiting
Waiting as I should
Always remember that I was waiting
And that you just never came.
I may not be there standing.
I may not be sleeping in my bed
I may be lying in my grave
Or in the ever-after, dead.
And this is just a poem I left
To tell you if you are not dead
That I have never really ever left.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem