An angel, who kept me that three years for...,
Raised up in ascension in fire.
But I wait for a sweet day, when he returns,
I wait for this day in desire.
My cheeks looks like sunken and bloodless are lips -
You shan't recognize me this day.
Because I'm not beauty, as he knew really,
When I made confused him some way.
I'm not afraid now of any thing bad,
Remembering words of good-bye.
I'll bow at his feet, when he comes again,
Though I hardly beckoned in past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem