Every time thyself glances upon thee thy chest throbs in shuddering pain;
for thyself wants what shall never be-
for thy laws state against our favor.
Never shall thyself know the knowledge of thy secret whisper at which thee part to sing a blissful lullaby.
All that is shall only be a dream.
(2/16/2012)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem