Your love is doing the action—but who is it doing it to
And where—If this is Valentine's Day,
And we made love on this day last year:
But you were married—and now I am married,
But it is something of the nature of revenge—
Because—before—my bones used to ring on your
Bones, but it wasn't enough:
I bought you cakes on your birthday—and crawled
On all fours,
But no luck: So I travelled across the world
And found a little girl who would love me without any
Tricks: This Valentine's Day she got roses,
But she wanted lotus—and I am so wrong—
I sent her ten thousand dollars for our wedding:
She was born in the year of the chicken
And I was born in the year of the horse-
But it was to you, once again, to whom I
Wrote my song.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem