Curling up with a friend, a loved one, adding abstract ideas to a bowl of life and love, its many wonders of poetic feeling, why might we have these strange feelings of emotion welling up in each and every one of us, the strangeness of it all, the ability and disability of love the many in definite possibilities of grasping and persevering something so indescribable, so delicate that we as a species may not and cannot Identify. Some hope, believing in love. Some try to avoid it with all of their will, may be they feeling that if will consume them, and destroy them
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem