Get angry, blazing red.
Let me know not all is dead.
Burn my spirit, turn my head,
say all was not a waste
Instead of saying nothing
except goodbye, of lowering face
and covering eyes.
We kissed in the beginning,
reached a crossroads in the night,
division of opinion
brought us surely into light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem