Painted glass that wasn't kissed
and the memory vivid blue,
walking through the Spanish mist
with these tears of saddened you
A figure worn and thin, quite gaunt
Etched upon these craggy lines
The beauty in the dark does haunt
The sketch within the reddest wine
Satin sheets and a soft gaze
Sweetened tastes of tulip lips
Lying in the purple haze
As we drowned in ocean rips
O love, crueller than Satans' whip
For life now lost on lovers' ships
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem