I hear your gentle whispers
as if you're standing near.
I see you in the morning mist
when nothing else is clear.
And sometimes when I'm half awake
and real and dreams are one,
I feel you lying next to me
and the nightmare is undone.
It's not that I am lost,
though I miss looking into your eyes.
And watching a sad movie is not the same
if I'm the only one who cries.
I no longer understand the endings.
Why were you the one who dies?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem