Poems by Elida Rusta
On Sundays you should not die
I addressed your card my Lord,
you may have felt it.
A light with hellish heat
Which I swallowed without chewing.
You devilish angel with wings
That sets my heaven on fire
Don’t you feel my love?
Announce this please,
On Sundays you should not die!
The sorrow of love
I didn’t know you were without pulse,
particles of poems of our love
I had torn all in that times
However I moved quickly
while, you racked me slowly.
Never I didn’t reach to resurrect you,
while I hadn’t finish, I am growing ….
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