I love thee in too many ways to know.
I count them on my fingers, on my toes,
And still not enough all the ways
How I love thee; it’s insurmountable.
If only thou knew, if only thou knew;
How I feel for that man, not t’all a boy.
Eyes like grains descended from the Heavens,
Hands made to keep young hoping hearts at bay.
I wish, I wish age was but a number,
And wasn’t the ailment of patient love.
The glints in his eyes are the galaxies,
So rare and exhilarating t’mine eye.
And the woe weighs on my heart to give in,
To know I’m not the grateful girl for thou.
I wish he was Romeo, and I Juliet,
Living in dreamt nirvana; Verona.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem