He is unsure
Where it has gone
Disappeared into
Thin air, but where
Does it sit, sweetly
Waiting for his
Arrival or return
Sipping tea like
It knew all along
He was searching
On a quest to find
Where such a thing
Could have wanted
To live, separated
From him and all
It should love
Should have known
Not a spark in sight
He is cold, freezing
Stabbing at the ground,
It is a frantic search
He will die without it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem