Aris is loveless and unhappy as can be
For true love, he pines, oft escapes me.
Oh how he longs for someone to love,
to have, to hold, to call his own.
Yet, he finds himself loveless
And very much alone.
How long must he wait
For lonliness to abate
When contentment he finds
To leave loveless behind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.