I can smell the air,
It’s cloyed with fragrance
Of love
A carpet of rose under,
Upon the poor heart, blessing
Falls from above
I can feel the touch
It’s overflowing with care
And faith
Mind floats in heaven
Forgetting in its playfulness
Knock of death
When the air is fragrant with the scent of love, we forget everything, even the knock of Death and will be unwilling to open the door for that unexpected, abhorred visitor! ! Small and lovely! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the last two lines keep on lingering long after they're read!