Influenza is collecting its crop,
Fever isn't leaving
The nightmare became reality
I am dreaming of places
Where I never was,
And not I will be also
Only are imaginings
Under the influence of illness
I see too much,
And I have dark image
It is becoming vexing
Eyelids are heavy as the curtain
I am trying to expose
It without success
Is puzzling me where from comes
Monotonous buzzing of bees
Or other insects
I am not able to distinguish
It is, are like
Unapologetic thoughts
New shivers are running
Through the too hot body
I am dreaming about
'Valentine`s for my heart'
from you,
an you are in my
imaginatione
always only by me
--
(for SM)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Illness into Valentines it is a bad luck :))) very nice poem. Interesting poetic solutions without unnecessary defamiliarizations. Very much I like it.