PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

English Translation:



here i am, leaning against my door, sitting on my doorstep. My mother calls me in to eat, but I am here, thinking. I have my telephone at my side, waiting for some message from you, a note of its own kind. I don't understand life; it's been only two days now that when I think of you, it brings up such emotions. Looking at the leaves on the cement, i can almost see your face in them, drawing it with the paintbrushes of my mind. I know that the miles between us won't disappear, but in some tiny corner of my mind, I feel that I'll be seeing you soon. The tips of my fingers tingle, from the lack of contact with the tips of yours.

Somewhere I once heard the rumor that there's always something thinking about you. A good feeling envelopd me and I wonder if you're thinking about me like you are currently filling all my thoughts. The smell of your shoulders lingers in the air. Oh, how I wish you were here with me, here on this doorstep where I feel like you aren't as far from me as you truly are. The sound of my telephone steals me away from this heaven. I'm enthralled, for a moment, but it isn't you. My dreams weaken, and then go flying off. I don't want to think about you all the time, there are other parts of life I should pay attention to, but I can't escape you. You're always with me, always in my thoughts. [At least in the recent days.... ]