Not in pieces, not in echoes,
but as the tide loves the shore,
endlessly returning, never afraid.
Love me in the quiet hours,
when the world forgets our names,
when the stars press close to listen.
Hold me not as a fleeting thought,
but as something certain,
as the sky holds the moon,
without question, without doubt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Elegantly crafted from the heart, lovely and very passionate.