what good are my memories now
father gone mother gone
i have no home
why was i so restless to leave
what was i migrating toward
i never did come back in the spring
i lost my path my way
i had to leave so young
i was barely sixteen
what i hoped to find isn't here
thirty seven years later
the love i thought i would find
turned bitter. i have nothing
that i left with, save
my name. the one i'll leave
on my stone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
such a poignant poetic creation, touching my heart in every lines...all of us will leave our name on our stone.......10