Can the stars
Be used again,
So constant,
Shimmering bright,
Or call upon
A shifting moon
Eclipsed by your daylight.
How many flowers open
In jubilant array,
How many winds
Will whisper
Your name to me today,
Or brush my lips
With breezes
For kisses gone astray.
I would give them
All away,
Whatever their value,
For all of nature does pursue
Comparisons with you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem