Maybe there will be stories written
Many years from now
When the future is upon us
And the past a droplet on my brow
Maybe songs will be composed
When time turns my body to grey
And these songs will be sung
When this regret is sent away
Maybe joy will be captured
In some distant, foreign place
When the mention of your name
Carves only smiles on my face
Maybe bodies will finally rest
In jars or in burial plots
And we will not be remembered
For our love or for our loss
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem