I may bring stars plucking from the sky,
Or stealing its scent from the smiling flower;
Either taking droll waves away from the sea-
Or ask the moon, its all glow upon you shower,
Would you then be pleased with me, dear?
I may ask the pleasant winds to blow dancing,
Or the silent clouds in cool drizzles to rain now;
Either the nightingale for a sweet song to sing,
Or the shining sun in front of you to bow;
Would you then be pleased with me, anyhow?
I may ask my eyes for a stream to release,
Or the heart beats to stop that are too weary;
Either my slowing breaths to take now an ease,
Or the darling death to dominate over me:
O, my love! I think so you might then be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem