You feel away and you are close,
Looking at me in a joyless eye,
I am quite lost on a simple verse,
Squeeze my forehead can't find a rhyme.
You move your chair something you slam,
Pick up a lid, a book you drop,
But like a monk I still stay mum,
Though nettles in my body crop.
Haven't forgotten you my treasure
When the full Moon on our bed shines,
Have felt the pain of a gray hair,
When on our bed your hair lies.
At your eye wrinkle, where tears drain,
I do feel guilty, myself I blame,
So I keep silent in sacred pain,
If I do cry, I won't feel shame.
Sleep just kissed your eyes with tender
On our bed the Moon beams splendor,
But you don't know that on my paper,
For you pour verses with starry ember.
Translation from Albanian into English
By Alfred Kola
Korçë, June 21,2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem