At times I see you afar, in my mind’s eye,
Calling this heart and affording a sigh.
A bit o’ pause, a bit o’ rush.
Listen girl, the silence…now hush.
Ah, that my tears had wings!
And my grief be heavenward
My soul blue-ly sings
A price none could afford.
Tears are never bought nor sold
Yet they are sweet, precious and never grow old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem