Know you not the thing I love most about you?
Let me tell you.
My dearest love.
My only heart.
It is your independence.
The love for which you have for yourself radiates with such a brilliancy that it rivals with that of the sun.
The respect for which you hold yourself is so commendable, it possesses no faults and is perfect in all ways.
Now, know you not the thing I love least about you?
It is your independence.
The love for which you have for yourself is so intricate and tightly wound around you that I cannot break through.
The respect for which you hold for yourself is so strong that it is if you need not my own love or respect. It is as if you are untouchable.
Now, my dearest, is it not ironic that what makes me love you and draws me near will seem to be the very thing that keeps me away?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem