Every day I always struggle with panic
And every day my desire is blocked by the woman I love
The woman who said she loves me
But what is the true meaning of love?
Because there's only a heated kiss
Hugs and intercourse that is always a spice
So what exactly is it all?
Is it true love?
Philosophers who have spawned works of love
The answer is at the end of the sky
And Jibril is the one who knows it all
or God who deliberately hides it for him
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem