What does she think as I stand at the gate.
Open gardens,
blowing wind and the rain by her hand.
Open gardens once closed the day after I smell it.
After the storms when you come.
Bent is the neck.
Kissed by lips my dreams from the heart.
It is this world of eye balls and sea-slides.
Did we not do,
how can we lie about beauty.
It is the color in the forest the secret of love.
Because it helps too be pretty and eyes are what matters.
If by God you approve it.
Some day after I thought of you, I can you smell it.
Your too many secrets,
and more than one rose as I climb the hill to touch it.
I can not stay here come quickly they have arrived.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem