I never saw her,
Only her words
Perfectly formed in ink on the paper.
'Lillian.'
I say it softly so that no-one but me can hear.
She tells me of Uganda, of her life.
She asked me once,
'What do you fear most? '
I prayed for her that night.
Me, guiltily living free
While she shivers, half a world away.
Lillian, my friend.
Ugandan Girl.
I agree with Paul: perhaps it's the whispering of her name & the praying for her that convey your love for her. Superb, anyway!
This piece is strangely moving - moving, that is, but I don't know why. Lovely.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful poem, like it, Thank you!