As a bee buzzes around the fragrant flower,
My thought moves around you for the nectar,
At least the bees make noise to attract the blooms,
But I am forbid as a rational human and kept quiet,
With a chirping bird in my own head, disturbing me nonstop,
Roam around of the muse, that lingers and links
With your movement, passing all these moments,
A torture at this part, thinking of you is the only pastime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very fine that I love it.