One night as cold winter sway;
I thought only of her, that once blissful day.
But O' that day I wish it so;
O' but that day it wasn't so.
I ache to see, I am blinded by her,
That voice of hers who knows for sure;
An angel, a demon, a siren boast?
I know it's love I feel the most.
But I know this love, it cannot be;
Woe is I whom fell misery,
Underneath this cloud covered moon,
Crying tears of shade maroon.
Longing for what is out of reach,
My heart is hers as I beseech.
Though I love but loved alone,
My journey ends with lover's atone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem