My Traces.

Poem (My Traces).

Where do I begin, maybe at a loss for words,

My steps falter and precede me like a wild horse.

I left everything behind, leaving only my traces,

And if you leave, don't stay long, look for me again,

About my clothes, my perfume, my fingerprints on the doors,

My comb on my table, My jasmine-scented scarf,

My pillow, my garden, my flowers and my trees.

Don't wait for me, time goes be quickly,

My traces will fade, my little hope will be dashed,

The walls of my old house, my name and school address,

My bag and my message book...

What to say, maybe I'II find my lost words,

I will find it among my distances, the shore of my silence,

And my distant castle, my clothes hanger, my shoes,

My cap and my silver bracelets, my necklace, my ornate box,

My collected shells, my ring, my old picture and my tales album.

Wait until I find a place to rest from my worries, my sorrows,

My tears, my loss and my anger.

And if you find it, hide it between your sides,

And ask them, does the departed have a return?