Say she was in love,
say she cried
and all she said were fine,
echoes in a heart sublime.
Say he shaped every word,
say he tried
her heart the anvil
his to whet his pen.
Say the world shifted,
in her arms, lifted
and when he saw her he flew,
pen to paper, gifted.
Say he begged, he did,
tio kiss her very feet,
to hear a sniff, to touch,
her shoulder or the sandal she wore.
But like thunder cuts the air,
they were no more the pair,
as sure as black's the night,
such was her one flight.
He was good, she says he was,
but i know not which is worse,
to be drunk with love unspoken,
or weep over a heart that's broken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem