I miss you the way,
Earth misses the raindrops,
And the seabed cries for ray,
The wind's touch that crave, crops.
Don't know whether missing,
Is divine or sinful,
Yet it seems to be a blessing,
Not seeing you nearby is god-awful.
Missing you the same as the Old Mariner missed water,
Don't blame me for missing you, it's my only pleasure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem