She will not hear,
No matter how I call.
I reached for her,
But she drifted,
Further from my sight.
I thought my voice
Might veer her near,
But her ears are barren.
Words fall like petals—
What a bed we made,
Only to scatter,
The hem of her garment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem