(to Minette)
So strong my hands had gripped
the hands of great men
but they were only mortal
as everything living in this life is
and these hands were far too frail, my darling,
to hold you with me,
to keep your heart
when death at its time did call
and now they are getting withered and old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem