Someday
I will sit down and weep
by the river of my childhood
and write my own story
so that others may know
that not all love stories
are the same.
I will gather the twigs
of the last molave standing
along the torrent where once
flowed limpid waters
borne by distant tomorrows
unencumbered of the past.
I will climb the mountain
of my deepest yearning
and fly with the sparrows
towards horizons unspoken of
where rainbows don't stop at midstream
and the sun doesn't hide behind
a puckered brow.
I will sing and dance the rapture
that lovers dream of
and dreamers breathe for
like a rosebud breaking light
or dewdrops melting pain
faraway in the magical woodland
of my everlasting reverie.
Someday
when shadows won’t linger
anymore than snowflakes
will fall in springtime
I will sit down and weep
on the banks of the river
where nymphets romped
and poets dreamt
and I will write the story
of love meant to be
the one that lasts forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem