My Jocelyn, my lovely Jocelyn
You are delicate porcelain.
Molded in ancient city of Yen
And traded to my heart in pain.
My Jocelyn, my lovely Jocelyn
You are delicate porcelain
Who enchanted the eyes of vain
Your scent soothes my pain
Jocelyn, my lovely Jocelyn
You are delicate porcelain
Who come to me like a hurricane
You bombarded the silence of my pain.
Jocelyn, my lovely Jocelyn
You are delicate porcelain
A gift from heaven to a lonely swain
Elixir to my tremendous pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem