How the April,
in its innocence
comes knocking at my window,
with ever so sweetness.
April,
the summer of life,
i lived with you
on street eleven,
and there was love in the air
love in the busy streets
love in the sudden empty abode
in our hearts.
April,
with its
many a birds
thirsty from the heat
that only comes in my window
for a drop of shade
from the scorching summer heat.
April,
how you invade
my existence
upon the sweet sweet times
spent in street eleven.
with many a strangers
of many a different place
speeding through life
with full fervor.
April,
my last April
upon street eleven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem