How can I give life to you
Whose secret heart I never knew?
The laments I drew
Were Scraps and seeming,
not
Verities; all dreaming (and)
False all I thought true
How with such
Bitter residue
In the dwindling few
Hours before dark
Construct a cameo
Of caring....?
Say
You loved -
you know not what
Certain and sure
True forever - that was not true
In truth.....
Braver than death
Stauncher than fate.....
But everything
Never or too late
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem