Please, forgive me
I loved neatly drawn
rivers of drunkenness
crookedly those valleys walked
between mounds rising V-shaped
his green eyes poor and beautiful
I counted my soul
all the rows – a million hopes
plowed now in the sun
accidentally a farmer
that is why.
Please, forgive me.
I loved a farmer poor and beautiful
but not returned
was I right
not was it good or nice
I loved him so
he did not love me.
Love not? Did he? So.
Him loved I – nice or good, it was not right.
I was returned. Not but beautiful, and poor.
Farmer – AH!
Please forgive me.
I loved a farmer, poor and beautiful.
His green eyes accidentally plowed
rivers of drunkenness into my soul.
I counted all the neatly drawn rows;
V-shaped mounds rising in the sun.
In between those valleys
are planted a million hopes unharvested.
That is why I walk so crookedly now.