Our wife is gone
Now that our house is down
Broken and wind done the roof in pieces
We are sullen and broken at heart
Losing two things at once
The house is down
But through the broken walls
We can see our wife going
Head stuffed with luggage
Back and hands full of longings
Her steps slow
Her eyes not looking back
She's going
She's gone
Now that the forest is a desert!
Truly, a wife is the gardener that keeps the garden of life blooming and green.Loved reading the poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Painful and emotionally studded. short and stupendous