It fades… the skin, her holy shroud
Cold winters touch greets her now.
My garden of roses, ravaged by poison ivy
Why take her from me, why so much envy?
My soul mournfully barters with angels
Hands to the sky, forsake me. Tales
Of Hell seem tamed to my fading love,
Ready to embrace war, for the peace of dove.
Eyes swollen with salty tears of sorrow,
Time to return this love I borrowed.
You too impatient, gone to Eden, I suffer,
I pray tomorrow never comes, my pale lover.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem