I haven’t seen you before,
Are you new in this town?
Would you like a dance?
Hey!
Say something…
Can I hold your hand?
I think, this is not a good idea;
I just want to feel your fingers,
And ensure the touch of your eyes.
You know,
When you were stripping,
You looked into my weary eyes;
And you touched my soul,
With millions of little fingers,
Emerging through your belladonna eyes.
It was raining heavily outside,
But I felt it here all over my body and soul,
Like there is no roof between me and heavenly sky.
Can I hold your hand…?
I think you better leave this place now,
But!
Always remember;
Wherever you go,
I’ll follow you;
With my little fingers…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem