Is it, because as the wind,
when you answer.
And when he crosses over, into I.
And becomes even there, wherefore.
Doing this he does, as doing this for her.
Whom is you and does not of it retreats,
yet requires this of green the grass.
Thus of dust, thou cannot maintain her place.
Be it because of this when his to informed
and because as for us they were there not.
Is it not us,
whom they have been made known,
for the sake, each cup filled sufficiently.
And as for intelligence such is that,
and such is such when that by my fever.
She becomes a certain bright halo of light.
And never from he, whom was, now would ask.
Those eyes when I look, have all but known that.
When tightening.
And which was when, looking at him,
turns to ask.
And as blue is the sky, shy the reason.
Where it is not included.
Yet I love you, ' but speak to me why.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem