Near her the birds are building,
Their nest I'll never see.
Gazing up and lonely,
One dove is all I see.
And watching them how should
I know,
How far they've come to build?
Descending darkness comes,
Without a moon that is not full.
How to you,
Do I begin to show to you the light,
Without the sun.
For love like yours is what I've missed,
Though we have never kissed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem