Love spoke to marriage,
“It is I who come first.”
For which marriage replied,
“It is for me you come.”
Arguments arose and words clashed.
Both who were one with another,
Split away and, the result,
No love ended in marriage,
And all marriages broke.
At last, He the Maker spoke,
“Love, you are My happening.
Marriage, you are My new beginning.
Without the other you shan’t survive.”
And then on, they walked hand-in hand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is beautiful. One needs the other to survive, so very true. I expressed something similar may be in a bit more abstract and mathematical manner in Prism of Life. Simple and cute. Great work.