How long will this go on -
this seeing you as young?
You must have wrinkles now,
but I don't notice them.
To me, your skin is just as smooth
as on the day when we first touched;
and though I know your hair is dyed,
such thoughts don't cross my mind,
when I comb it with my fingers
and glance at you and smile.
So at last I understand
when people say that love is blind.
Perhaps I'll never see your age!
But I'm afraid you may see mine...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem