No need to love me when I am young,
because I can only love myself then.
No need to kiss me under the apple bough,
as any pair of fair arms would me arouse.
But love me, love me when I am old,
when the extremities of me grow cold,
when neither food nor drink will do.
For all the years that we drift through,
pretending we each other didn’t know,
now love me, love me as we stand in snow
Aww...this is so lovely. Tugs at the heartstrings. Nicely written!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good start with a nice poem, Koon. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.