Love is like a window.
A window meant to be broken.
Once your window was whole,
but then a woman came and opened it.
This was a woman whose beauty was that of an evening sky.
She opened your window and you held her in your arms.
You could feel the softness of her skin,
the ecstasy of her kiss,
and the silky, flowing hair that fell over a face of utmost compassion.
And then, one day, the window closed,
but there she remained.
Only now, when you reach out to hold her,
you can't.
You go mad with the torment of her beauty,
and the window is broken.
She dissapears.
Love.
Love is like a window.
A window meant to be broken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem