My love, you must know of a poem, sweet,
As sweet as honey, which bees used to keep,
Or kiss, that lovers share as means to greet,
Or ecstasy of dreams in blissful sleep;
The poem has no words, nor any rhyme, But flows in unison with rhythmic beats
Of two hearts cast on acting of a mime,
That even how speechless, no script defeats;
But then, in open fields or crowded space,
On lofty peaks, or down the deepest seas,
It glides amazingly with fluid grace,
Like arrow that's unswerving in the breeze;
......Such poetry I may, in fact, assign,
......To sight of yours while conversing with mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem