More? Poem by Za Italian Buffon

What else should I write of you?
For, you see,
all the structures seem useless.
All the remembrances are vain.
And before the splendor or your love,
life looks pretty short and usual.

Then I try, a one of my failures;
methinks, a masterpiece that tells of you.
You; the love, the wonder and the grace.
And I fall again.

For only words unspoken may tell of you,
silence of infants and distant scenes,
all that speaks not yet express,
all the love unseen beyond,
all the you I may see,
through my life, all I do, and all I be.