When love Is like the fire on Ice, she needs;
She cools fire and ice is to burn again.
The hard frozen heart cools never a thought,
of one single flake that settles on the fire to melt.
Stiffer my resolve does grow to claims within,
when as sweat that never breaks, entreatingly.
As night ends the fire the heart consumes again
the tempest driven back and forth inside cool winds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem