In Life, we fight daily to Dream of Love,
So pure that even blue skies blush Above,
The Mountain Ranges of our Warm Hearts,
Beating in sync with the Hope Love Ne'er Parts.
But even the Sun sets on Coastal Plains,
And so the Soul must always go thro' Pains,
To Reap the Rewards of Heavenly Bliss,
Which can only be secured in thine Kiss.
But the Sun always gives way to the Moon,
Just as Pain doth follow a heart that's Swoon
Alone: embers dying on a lonely fire,
My love for thee: gasoline on my Pyre.
But 'twas just a Dream, and soon I awoke,
Yet in my Mind's-eye, I see thy face in Smoke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem