Love can give hints of its existence,
Like rain that may be augured by a cloud,
Or speak mysterious of its quintessence,
Through lips so veiled, as though wrapped in a shroud;
Or love may touch with token tenderness,
That even doubting hearts may not dismiss,
Or find cause for pretense at truthfulness,
For even parting could bestow a kiss;
But love shows colors, nice, when it is true,
Like honesty that’s stripped off of the lies,
Or sunset free of clouds that block the view
As night is born and dimming daylight dies;
……But will I rightly read the signs this time?
……All indices for love has shown to climb.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem