The clouds are blushing rosy pink,
as the sun bathes in twilight;
The stars begin to twinkle-wink,
at the wild winds kiss goodnight.
The gentle breezes now caress,
the new, shy and swirling mist;
Shedding her lace evening dress,
the moonbride needs to be kissed.
The lusty sky looks on his love,
yearning for sweet earth below;
Unattainable from above,
but bathed in love's warm glow.
Pray tell, if all the world is loving thus...
What on earth has become of us?
©
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I would like to translate this poem