If I become your poet,
Would you be my poem,
Will you be my kind of duet,
To dwell onto my palm firm,
Whilst we performed;
Would I be your quest,
That you would chase,
Chase after like a river,
That had found love with the sea;
Glued to its perfume;
If I become your poet,
Would you be my words,
That would melt my heart,
Like an iceberg,
Draining at it tips with chills of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem