Each time we meet
Under this canopied lattice
of yellow flowered vines
It gets harder to say goodbye
Until we meet again
Under this canopied lattice
Of yellow flowered vines
Each time we meet
on the streets for a picket
to fulminate against injustice
It gets harder to say goodbye
Until we meet again
On the streets for a picket
To fulminate against injustice
Each time we meet
For dialectics on human misery
and political upheavals
It gets harder to say goodbye
Until we meet again
For dialectics on human misery
And political upheavals
Maybe this is the sign
That we pull the plug on this
routine of meeting only to
reluctantly say goodbye later
Maybe this is the sign
That we should say
Goodbye for the last time
Perhaps we should get married?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem