A sudden tune brings back a memory,
or was it a dream?
It must have been a dream, for it left
without vindication of a promised return.
Dream or memory an unseen importance,
it only voices itself in the dense silence.
That once held love in an old cabin,
under the whistling and cheering branches
made way for our kiss.
Our midnight strolls below the black sky’s eyes,
whose mixture of frosting jealousy and particles of
admiring breeze sometimes iced the summer air.
This recollection or manifested truth of a love
resonates once in a long while when I tread alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it captures sumthing so unique n inexplicable! ! ! ! ! !