The art of love
is complex and conflicting
there are no rules to rationalise it
no benchmarks to assign progress
that we may measure the depths of love
or the time between sight and devotion
love is this unstable chemical
that denies and disproves, mathematics
no sum of soul and soul entwined
nor common interest found
can be coerced to suit a designed outcome
so to chaos it appears to be
the art of love is bound
for all the science and genius of man
when it comes to love
we all our dumbfound
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem