Love has qualities of the tide
neap at low and ebb at high
and all the measurements
in between.
But like the tides, your love
it seems at high or low
defies all kinds of measurement
beginning to the end.
Each time you say: I love you –
I do not really know
that like each splashing wave of tide
if Love to Go, or Love, come in.
I watch each wave splash on the shore
and wonder, watching, more and more
if love has ebbed its measured height
or neaped by night in measured flight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a wonderful exploratory of love; is it increasing or is it on the wane, and the final verse is exquisite poetry, poetry at it's best.