This blank page I dedicate
To Nineteen Seventy Five
The year I found out, too late
How precious it is to be alive;
For how many things do we learn
How many gifts do we have to give
For something for which we yearn
'As long as we both shall live';
All that has happened since then
All the years that have passed
Cannot change that day, or when
Living stopped so fast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem