Often I forget your address -
a sense of guilt works then,
but as I draw near to the neighborhood,
the map in mind starts showing the path,
slowly your face, fingers, fine prints,
they come to mind vividly.
I recover myself -
regain what I lost.
I realize:
what's lost can be regained,
what's found can be lost too,
it's a cycle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem