I love you to tell the truth,
As the sun loves the earth,
Much have I endeavoured,
To make my conscience understand.
All my efforts have gone in vain,
Since thinking of you invites hellish pain,
Barely can I separate myself from you,
My feelings for you are ever true.
They don't accept such acquaintances,
Rather relieved they are sticking a letter in its place,
As happened to Hester Prynne,
And countless unknown.
Perhaps death can let us unite,
Providing eternal wings to taste choice and right,
Maybe time makes havoc as Sophocles did believe,
It does see all and shall in time heave.
Yet I love you and will continue to,
As long as this mortal frame lets my spirit glow,
If loving you is a sin inner,
Then I don't mind being called a sinner.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem