A swinging bridge,
My, love to you is like the muse of your act;
But the sun will rise on us always.
I love you and you love me,
But to whom is this sun shing up to?
For this life is all about us.
A swinging bridge,
And like the muse of joy!
But the bombs dropping on us now are like,
A paradise with a very dark shadow! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem