Heart was young and pure,
Till it met with your care,
Since our conversation,
Though had a sense of conservation
Entered in my heart with kind,
Making me instantly blind,
Never with future preparation,
since I was to your observation.
The flower you brought,
Became the source of thought,
On seeing a soul you caught,
Suppose to have it fought.
Voice was soft to hear,
But hard to bear,
Though was once a dear,
Still need to make clear.
Can’t answer your question,
No damn for your position,
Just wish for a life lead,
But worried, I might be pronounced dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem