Her love is oil;
My heart's a fire,
And it needs her oil to burn.
When she is gone,
My fire grows dim
Until she has returned.
And if one day
I should find
She has to more oil to supply,
My fire will no longer dance
And slowly
It will die.
And so will I...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
love is all, I like it.