There is a love story in the season,
That comes and goes again temporally;
For every heart has its own reason,
To love and then once more, as the birds be free.
We are drifting clouds in the sea of love,
With feelings that are as an opal stone;
And every wing flies in the wind above,
And never will such feelings be alone.
Their wings are white of innocent snow,
Profoundly in their flight to the far;
For starry winds, like the earthly, come and go,
So sometimes it's hard to reach to a star.
Be patience with love, for in feelings it flies,
And reaches out with its wings to the skies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem