Love is the subject full of wonders and mysteries;
How I could I begin if He does not dictate.
My mind is so feeble and uselessly complicated;
Divine Word has outlined my miseries!
Hopeless is my inability for noble;
Only Heart-to-heart communion my soul relies on,
On the shadow when He passes by,
An adaptability of the Presence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem