I'd love to come and sit with you in your evenings of news
where the last pillows of sunlight decorate
Your walls like Christmas ornaments
And your friendly morning shadows still
Follow you to kitchen and counter
For that innocent cup of tea
That we praised so loudly
As if it were a blossom of stars
In the early afternoons of ourselves
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem