Wave after wave, you hear it come.
Each with their glow and unique.
God under her feet so many are sent.
Too Many round trips, most will buy.
Thistle is plucked and rivers of thistle inside.
Desire rides on wave after wave un reserved.
Moving around it is pulled and it runs away.
Again I hide my face in you, once again.
I would never refuse the moon and each
soft hand, full white that shines, if it I knew.
I will always stand before you and when I do.
Younger is my brother, your sister, I won't refuse.
Then patiently you wait and you know, I will come again.
o.w.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem