If but sorrow seems my baring,
and I nothing shed but tears,
there's a constant love still caring,
pooring comfort in my ears.
When to bright I see the hours,
with a fools smile on my face,
then that love's a cooling shower,
putting out too hot what plays.
Ti's a balanced situation,
where I build and sharpen off,
in a blessed meditation,
sits my ever guiding love.
And by not the richest treasure is such Goddess to be known,
for only true can she be measured by the endless space alone!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem