This is there where under the tree I live
If this is that of a goodbye
Of which waiting will turn into goodbye
Be not I afraid of your return
But that of a pass
Where you plan your years when I'm crying
And you swim past my tears
And under this now tree under where I lay
Ready to freely jump at you
But I don't know what I am waiting for
A new life-
Or goodbye
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem