Little does it matter what I do,
the loving of you
is a strange and uplifting thing,
and sometimes right out of the blue
much like a storm that is arising
words and acts find there mark
As with the falling rain,
sorrow and joy comes down in rushes of pain
where it patters on my heart
and sometimes in happiness that does remain
while far from me you are apart
but still together through life we do embark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem