Mine is a lonely heart
And what does it crave?
A company it is yet to find
For how long can it wait?
A day? A year or a decade?
What has become of my soul?
Starved, malnourished or disowned?
So lean, so weak so pale
And what feed does it take?
Why am I so clueless?
Yet I grieve in my silence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem