As the sweet little lambs
return to the fold,
so Cupid will guide us
the prophets have told.
Mystique of young love
at last will come true,
within sunsets of red
and May skies of blue.
Forever relentless
as waves of the sea,
a love song will echo
over meadow and lea.
Romance is a heaven
for a groom and his bride.
Love is the magic
and it can't be denied.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem