Oh, how my love for thee...
grows faster than the mid-summer flower.
And oh, how my joy with thee...
warms my heart like the fresh winter fire.
My, how you sink the pain lower.
And my, my... how you raise my hope higher.
I found my love in the snow of December.
And oh, after i perish at last...
you may be the only face I remember...
Perhaps the only highlight of my past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem