What for dreams
If you must shatter them
What for these wings
If I can't use them
What for the light
And then extinguish it
What for love
But then withhold it
What for you
What for me
What for this hunger
Devouring me
What for love
What for life
This lie
What for, why
What for me
Being free
Love is slowly
Killing me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow oh wow, Sonya! This is splendid and perfect and makes me want to cry: 'What for dreams If you must shatter them What for these wings If I can't use them' and the whole poem is the same, filled with pain and hopeless submission. You are melancholy's baby..(smile)