And what else love is,
to see someone always
and to remain still thirsty,
to touch someone in lovely moments of life
and to feel still untouched,
sacrifice all that a lover had kept for a rainy day,
still searching in the empty bag,
something might have left,
what else is story of the mortal clay,
created by love,
lived in love
and died in love!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Our life is based on love. Thank you for sharing this wisdom.