This path, overgrown with briar and bramble,
Thorns and nettles strewn in disarray,
This path leading to your memory,
Willingly I walk it everyday
This path that hurts not the feet, but the heart,
Where roiling streams overflow their banks,
And burning cinders mingle with ice,
A testimony to Fate's cruel pranks
How can such a path lead to paradise,
With your kiss waiting at journey's end,
And your arms holding me tenderly?
Loneliness has taught me to pretend!
What pain I must endure to reach you,
But this is the path that holds the key
That fits the door to a faded past
Where you and your love still wait for me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow! ! what a sweet drop! ! love to read it again and again.