What is true Passion without love
Desire without real hunger
Perfect without the imperfect
It is you, not all of you, but some of you
I do not see all of you, but I do see you
I do not embrace every day,
but I do day to day
And because I see you,
I feel you,
I crave for you
On this most precious of nights,
I think of you, I long for you
As long as these words paint this veil
And eyes of man can see
These will forever be for thee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem