If angels fall in love, will they, too, cry?
When utterly naive on how things go,
When not required to pass, by ways they shy,
Nor privy to the bliss, that fools would know;
As torments accentuate the feel of joys,
As peaks loft best, viewed from a well so deep;
The vagaries that love so oft employs,
Makes for the bittersweets that hearts may keep;
Lord please, an angel make of me, not yet,
As heart still dreams, and arms still yearn to hold,
For might in Heaven, I can't still forget,
Her wondrous sights that beckon to behold;
......For angel, she is, with me, anywhere,
......And any place turns Eden, once she's there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem