Who sold your heart?
Was it the wind dressed like Paris
The bogs of London in halls of beryl
Prince once bright now trembles
My heart is not for sale
Will you walk toward the stars
10 miles outside of town
A little place by a field with a garden
You want the world
You can have it
Once in a awhile a Costa Rican beech
My candle burns quietly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem