Sunday is the day
I receive his red roses;
he charms my whole being
as sweet words he discloses.
I savour each moment
with a heart young and gay
but dread darkest midnight
when the dream slips away.
With him near, I am joyous
my soul it is light...
without him, there's nothing
but darkest midnight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem