What is this thing we call true love?
Where can we find its source?
Does it begin from high above?
How has it such a force?
Many a war through love was fought
Many through love have died
Yet still we treat it as a sport
And boast with open pride
Love’s origin is God on high
Through Christ it has its Root
Planting it firm in you and I
To bear such wondrous fruit
Love is in fact a selfless choice
In each of us alive
We hear inside its quiet voice
And feel its gentle drive
Love is a creed a way of life
Its patient and its true
Not just reserved for man and wife
Not always plain to view
We need to share it night and day
Reveal it all mankind
We must show people everyway
That love is all but blind
For love’s a dance a living song
Walking an extra mile
Forgiving those who do us wrong
Wearing a faithful smile
It soothes it calms it drives off fear
Oft made through suffering real
It’s sacrifice both far and near
Can comfort bless and heal P.T.O.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem