though the rivers of tears flunked deltas in an ox-bow
In the depth of heart halting its flow
down this dark hills form fresh tributaries
as we live to relive your reveries
I know now living, is creation of memories
and yours forever in our arteries
and am I not right Mr. King
that you is forever living?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem