Hast thou found love yet, troubled soul?
Clingy and humble lovers approach thee,
Rich and poor, old and young adore thee
Alas! Rejection you served them all.
Afraid to love, little angel?
Thy beauty fadeth with time, yet thou rejects
One score, ten and five art thou
Yet, still afraid to love?
Thy bossom longs for pleasure and pain
Thy back ready to be burdened
To be tired from frequent suckings
With infants sweet and playful
Thy organs longs for excitement
Yet, thou refused to be loved
Little angel, shinning bright like the sun
Afraid to love, art thou?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem