There is an internal rhythm,
In verses that are writ,
Pleasing to the ear,
But spiritually, more fit.
There is an invisible rhythm,
Born to Poetry
That heightens language's prism,
And keeps it in memory.
There is an internal sweetness,
Sole to Poetry,
That tenderly speaks to lovers,
So they know what Love can be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem