my love appeared perfectly folded
written into so many lines,
as believing the day mine
how truly rolled the verse.
mornings spent writing;
times were always happy
as love was celebrated together
and rhyming made you mine.
the words more special
in a red card, with a heart,
and because our song ought never
hear of joy being put to death again
the last tears made love more dear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem