Poppies, red like wine-they make me think...
Of all the memories that stain-they make me think..
Of you.
Empty, feeling that i have inside, it makes me think...
Of all the feelings that you brought me, they make me think
-Of you.
Happiness, that i feel when i am alone, it makes me think...
Of the way i felt, when you left me-it makes me think...
Of you.
Cherries, that are plump-and happy, it makes me think..
Of the way, he makes me feel, when im with him.. and i think..
Not of you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem