Standing at the corner, covered by a woodlot,
Bitten by sharp shrill of love for you
In the chilly blizzards of temperate winter,
Hurry up to come baby for my love
Leave all else and come for my love
Before the chills of the earth dampen
My fragile heart from love of you,
Your cosy companionship dear sweetheart,
Is a cosy that truly warmth our desert of love,
Unless then you come, my love for you is prone,
To snarls and menace of those who are born minus love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem