I held your name beneath my quiet chest,
A flame that burned though no one saw it glow;
Each memory a guest that would not rest,
A river flowing where I cannot go.
Your voice still lingers in the empty room,
A song that dances past my outstretched hand;
Love blooms in shadows, gentle as a plume,
Yet fades untouched, like footprints in the sand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem