The outlines of the veils you, have obscured the beauty that lies therein, and i would but grab your inner innocence, and hold it to my chest.
I would treasure it that's all,
Then I would do anything i could to rise you up, and I'm not the sort to let fall, AM i the slave of destiny, I fear the brightness will go away. In which Direction do i fall, where best do i serve a flower, every petal, with sweetness, with light. not doubt but clarifications, i can see the murkiness will reveal the matter, of course, and your affection will come with the temper, that your muscles use to rise me up and then fall.
A joint of Roads people Panic in multitudes, in the wrong direction, cupid Delicately takes up his lyre, and smiles Happily.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem