I am in a Garden with butterfly's playing,
writing this poem because I am waiting,
I have been waiting for a very long while,
For my love is in this garden with a smile,
Where is she, I have been waiting,
By this lonely post sticking out of the ground,
Where is she while I am creating,
Then I hear a voice sound,
My love is standing out there in the flowers,
Her hair cowers,
Then she stabs me in the heart,
All because she wanted a fresh start,
As I lay in the garden with a broken heart,
I feel bereaved,
The garden takes my lifeless body apart,
Then again I am conceived.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem