I do not want to be a slave or to own one.
But fate has wanted this meeting to take place.
And with a steady pace you have made me a slave
to your likes and dislikes,
to your kisses and memories of bliss,
And now, I'm the main concept of your time.
Yet in my dreams, I lose the concept of time.
Years are measured by my monthly bleeding.
Time does not exist because love remains leading.
And your eyes elevate the movement of the moon.
The very same eyes that look at me like a muse.
So, if love and desire were fire,
You would already be burning
From what I'm giving to you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem