When you feel very sad

I won’t be here, I will depart,

decayed in soil, like other men.

At the café dear to my heart,

waiters will not see me again.

And on the roads I used to stroll,

my dry cough will be missed.

Next to my grave will stand tall,

one cypress, like a poor priest.

The room empty will remain,

then in grief you’ll utter a sigh.

When the wind hits the pane,

along with it, you’ll slowly cry.

But when you feel very sad,

look for me on the bookshelf.

That’s where I’ll be hiding at,

in any letter, or verse itself.  

Just slightly pull on the book,

and I’ll follow wherever you go.

You’ll wear again that smiley look,

like the verdure after the flow.

Dritero Agolli



*Copyleft - I have translated this poem from Albanian. Feel free to share or modify it as you like :)