I am just counting my hours
My horse is galloping in joy
This sunny morning brings your freshness
And its warm feels me your spray.
Whenever I see your innocent image
Whenever I woke up in midnight hours
Whenever your memory frenzied me
With my blood I wrote Billet d’Amours.
All my enraged, all my regale
Which turmoil in my deep heart
Every clasp with pillow in peevish
Your looming image which I feel
My rage with you when you hurt
And my love which I has realize.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem