a rose in one hand and silence
in the other,
for love is moonlight and empty sight;
blood and vinegar
thunder and quiet rain
bolted to common plight.
whisper for me to come,
i am close and distant at the same time:
the roses wither but not my desire
i am here, love
fill me up with your wine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem