Traveling through this grand ocean of want
the satisfaction of my senses gives
more than I can ever hope to take back.
Impetuous though my thoughts and actions be,
momentous are the seconds I relive
the causative nature of my environment.
It is this indelible mood
that I write to you these words
and lost in the abstract profundity of love
I predate my thoughts to the first of our encounters.
Dear Lady,
loquacious in your speech,
solemnity is the pulpit from which I preach,
the day I knelt before you and kissed your gentle hand
I called myself protector though shunned by my own land;
in my eyes the wild beast, the serpent from the deep,
in your eyes the ocean's depth that cared to make them weep.
I am sealed by love, bound with hate, by my bastard birth
doomed to roam the wicked seas till the ends of earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem