Now, in this hour of life's labored blast,
where age has honored its dour damage,
on what was once young, mindless,
to what would become, lipless,
shipwrecked ghost, hosting longecity:
reverie dwells on love.
Sees, no higher proclaim on life's aim
will ever eclipse height of delight,
mimed in sublime echo,
repeating strain of constant refrain:
'love is never wasted
even when it doesn't last! '
Panmelys 2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem