You could touch life like nobody else.
When you put your letters in a drawer,
You had to feel isolated and worse -
You wanted to love – more and more…
Your verses - short subtle messages –
Disappeared in a dark wooden box.
Those works of art, the little miracles
Were waiting patiently like ships for docks.
Today everything seems to be different;
There are different times and even the sky.
Yet, true love still makes our minds excited,
And broken hearts can only bleed and cry...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem