The breeze was swift,
and very warm
It made me think,
of what was torn.
You mended what was ripped apart,
and with that, I gave you my heart.
Your name, that was mostly unknown,
is now engraved in porcelain stone.
I was your savor, as you were mine.
You'd make me smile and my heart shine.
You are not dead,
nor are you here
but in a way, you disappeared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem