The night is clear,
The moon is bright,
And you and I,
Have taken flight,
Behold, the happiest idea,
What love can do,
Holding you near,
To walk upon a phantom cloud
To love, to cry, but not too loud,
A dream of wondrous tenderness,
That only Love can truly bless,
And now that all of this you know,
Please never, ever let me go,
I love you now, eternally,
In light, in darkness, tenderly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A dream of wondrous tenderness, That only Love can truly bless, Love and tenderness goes hand in glove. With so much love in our hearts, why are we subject to unkind realities of life? Why the heart that is so tender, made to break at random? Any poet's answer?