i cannot leave
the point of my origin
the place and person
that you want me
to erase like a bad
memory of my
youth
i compromise leaving it
and think of another
the one that you always
speak about
days, years, until i have
seen my white hair
and felt the tiredness of
my arms
but i shall return to it
again
for it is my home
i should have told you
that without it
and without you knowing it
i could not be here
with you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem