The tender weight of her sighs
lies heavily upon my heart;
apart from her, full of doubt,
without her presence to revolve around,
found wanting direction or course,
cursed with the thought of her grief,
believing true love is a myth,
with hope as elusive as tears,
hers and mine, unable to lie,
I sigh...
NOTE: This poem has an unusual rhyme scheme, with the last word on each line rhyming with the first word on the next line. The final line is a "closing couplet" in which both words rhyme with the last words of the preceding line.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem