I know how it feels, when a day begins
and your heart is not there
to raise you from your knees
in the white kingdom of clouds
where your blonde dream resides
while outside, the rain, the lovely rain falls
heavy, between you and her crying eyes.
I imagine this to be
the bitterest of all hells,
like I've imagined in the past
the dearest heaven to rest
as a kiss, on her red and so soft lips.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem