In my own by the fireside
Glacing at your photo for the latest time
Looking at your strunk drawing
That I've stolen to you, then laughing
I dry that salted dropp on my cheek
Looking for courage to throw all the memories
Now that we've broken, I get tinglies
As known, a look, a smile, a romance then the break
I see the waves drawing, using the spare foam, your lovely face
But can't adjust well his eyes in their right place
Let me do it by myself, in that case
I close my eyes & draw again on the wet sand my baby's face
While he's wandring someplace
In that desert beach, alone, flowing in my painful sorrow
In need of voice to shout & yell, that I have perhaps to borrow
To tell you to stay for a while, hold on
But who can do better & beg time to hang on
I straighten myself & give up my utopian chimeras
It's time to carry up the punter, to cope dilemmas
I threw the memories as I've thrown a part of me in the fire
And freezing while an icy hole's digging inside
I dry the salted drops which succeed to that first one muttering go to the hell
I think it's time, it ends tonight, I can hear the bell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This reminds me of my poem 'Ashes'. The separation is never smoothe. GW62