Love is the goal so bold,
May flowers of the sun be cold;
For fear of death and life,
I take into my arms my wife.
Let ages pass before I tell
The secret of my stupid hell;
Hearts always roll up fine words,
Their meanings fly like birds.
May the heavenly spirit come at last,
To peer into soldiery and contrast;
Lull the fighting so taught by others,
Even be those of the adorers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem