Simbellmyne's utopia

SIMPLE SONG

I sit by the shore
and count the years,
staring at the water
or something up here.

Waiting for summer
or for the mail,
or listening for
souls on the trail.

The rains all pass,
and snow melts away,
yet no word from you
ever comes my way.

Birds have come back,
all these years now.
While looking at you,
I see no one I know.

I see your face
pale as a plank.
Thinking of you
I draw a blank.

Marcelijus Martinaitis, Translated by Vyt Bakaitis