Your love is like sifting sand.
It makes no sense when I stand,
On it because it changes place.
What if I change the sifting sand,
Into rock solid cement?
Then it would hurt my feet, not knowing where to put them.
What if I told you to swim in a waterfall?
Then you'd not be able to stay afloat.
But what if I told you to stand on love?
Then you'd be engaged in your heart forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem