There was a bridge connecting our two houses
spanning the deep ravine that ran between them
I built it all myself with my own hands
from my front door to yours
I used to cross it almost everyday to see you
my shoes leaving no sound on the oak planks
smelling the beautiful jasmine hanging from the rails
thinking only of love and positivity
We were supposed to split the maintenance half way
but it seemed that I was doing it all
it was only when I saw you in the arms of another
that I let it fall into disrepair
There was a connection between our two houses
now it is pieces on the rocks far below
only traces remain of the bridge of love
and soon even they will disappear from memory
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem