That tiny shell of sea she sees
Sits comfort on grains of sand
A glowing color of honey from trees
A wish she made for a lift in the hand
Stayed she still an admiring gaze
A wish to possess with a great desire
Alas, my precious ways with a blaze
Trembled that hand with a blink of fire
A murmur's sail, her soul it breezed
Echoed it past her heavenly fears
A look aloft her shoulders teased
A ransom of love those torturing years
Were shadows, were thoughts or words in a jar?
Were moons of days or the crystals of eyes
His palates of love do stay but far
That surge of faith but no glorious cries
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem