There she stands, my heart fluttering
at the sight of her; my soul sings with
joy in her presence.
Those beautiful eyes capture mine;
her alluring form enraptures me.
All look on us with envy and are awed
at our love; legends remain told of our
burning passion.
Oh, how that passion has fled!
Where have you gone, my beloved?
I search and do not find you; I call and you
do not answer; I hunt and find no prey.
Why must we be so detached, my love?
How could we have lost such a sweet love?
These eyes no longer look with pleasure,
but with a lack of ecstasy; this soul no longer
burns with zeal and is extinguished as if it
were a spark.
Gone is our love, my beloved, as will the tales
of our passion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem