You'll understand all these lines were not just little poems,
But valid expressions of my heart and how I actually felt.
Empty lines they appear, on papers they make the count,
Some day you'll understand what they were actually all about.
Tall tales on repeat, the song is still being sung on endless lips,
Just a poet and a paper that's all that there is to him.
The lines still sing and a heart still cries out,
Some day you might understand but I won't longer be around.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem