The girl picked my heart
and I chased her in shock.
'What a fall! What a fall! '
Hurled herself into my heart
to loll about whistling songs.
I put my hand at my chest
for a simple one handed catch.
Oh mygod! She was out
as I missed the catch
of my heaven made match.
Where shall I go
to meet my wandering minstrel?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That minstrel is residing in the inner cove of your heart, though you don't see her! That's why poems flow from you! Don't let her go!