The sun is different here,
Because of you,
Who makes me proud, my dear,
By God this is true.
Craving for your touch the air sets in motion,
When it senses your presence,
I in the vein of Iago get a bit green,
You know I can't endure and get pretty tense.
You are only mine, I'll even slap death,
If it dares to take you away, ‘my breath'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem