When the moon is on the roll,
And stars hanging by,
My soul takes rest.
When tides sleep beneath the palms of the sea,
Enchantment is born and frowning days are humbled.
The wounds within, heal
It's a reformation I feel
And all the pain, is killed
The coldness took a one way stroll
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem