And even though
I had wandered
a thousand miles
toward my destination,
I realized when reaching
the place, I had longed
for all those years, that
only shadows were there.
Way back, hundreds
of miles, of days, which
I had experienced with
always different sunrises -
I had passed my destination.
Way back. Too late now,
the roads backward
in time are closed...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'...had experienced with always different sunrises....' - Ursula, I like your ambiguous trip without return a way. Very beautifully write, thanks for sharing, Tsira