I can hear your whistling in the next room
It has a beautiful echo that persists in my ears
I don't want it to go
But soon you'll run out of breath
And there will be one, hanging, pause
The air won't move and I'll suffocate
But once you've resumed
My heart will stop
And a gentle breeze will apparate in my soul
I'll fill the gaps in your tune
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Short and sweet! Well done!