I see you standing by the sink
Washing pot and dish
Your tight grey slacks make me think,
Some day you'll be a wish;
You seem so calm and composed,
Sedately standing there,
You rinse the dishes with a hose,
I sitting in my chair;
You are a phantom, a living ghost,
Next year too soon departed;
I think I loved you, yes, the most,
But you'll leave me broken hearted;
Discontent, I sit my chair
And watch this waking scene,
Too soon I'll sit beyond repair,
Delusional in my dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem