My heart moves and
wind moves the banners of my heart.
If your lips have not forgotten me,
know this:
The sweetness of your breath,
cinnamon and oleander scents,
moves my winged heart.
Ah, the memories
never go away
and I have never left.
So - if I touch the grooved bark
of the pine, everlasting, strong,
the petal of the morning rose,
soft and perishable,
I touch you.
I made some paper boats
and wrote your name
on every one of them,
I added a message,
'Come back to me, my love.'
They floated downstream,
ending up
in little piles of soaked misery.
They disappeared
with a giant sucking sound,
gone and forgotten.
Still, I repeat, repeat,
my mantra, my incantation.
My heart says
it's just a question
of getting there.
I would have come back on the very same boat, I think. Wonderful poem, thank you. H
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is such a touching poem. good work HBH