Love is the Thing so sweet,
Uncurable in its true way;
Everything therein so need,
Like each the word you say.
And if you have a wish,
Love is there too in its play;
Like a dream or a bliss,
Something you can't portray.
Bring in times of wishing,
Let it be true to the heart;
There is a lot of demolishing,
Where roads of love starts.
With hope in each footstep,
And longings there besides;
Turning with interest and hep,
With each to other coincides.
Love is the Thing you know,
If it be so simple and true;
Trust is the only aficionado,
You must conquer and accrue.
Remember all the following,
That comes just trough to stay;
Though it might need abolishing,
Before it's in its truest way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem