But curiosity, whence planted?
From such a lovely fragile shade,
in blossom form.
Between frown and smile,
then a chance at reach.
In eyes aglow,
the touch whence made,
in melting thirst
and two glasses in hand...
a covenant... a pleasure,
pour to nourish...
over things and dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem