How do I thee?
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth
and breath
My soul can reach,
when feeling out of sight.
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everything's
Most quiet need,
by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely,
as men strive for Right,
I love thee purely,
as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion
put to use in my old griefs,
and with childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lose saints,
- I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, off all my life!
- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
~Diana Dinerman
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I LOVE THIS POEM GOOD JOB! ! ! ! ! ! ! :)